


somewhere in space hangs my heart

by citizen101erased



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Eventual James T. Kirk/Spock, M/M, Slow Burn, blatant captain pike worshipping, filling the gap between discovery and tos, mentions of Tarsus IV, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of trauma, past James T. Kirk/female OC, post-discovery season 2, spirk, there will be klingons, this fic is at least somewhat discovery canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-01-21 13:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citizen101erased/pseuds/citizen101erased
Summary: James T. Kirk is about to become the new captain of the Enterprise. But before he can take over captaincy, there's an overlap of almost two weeks as they head towards a different starbase. Along the way, they have to survive exploding supernovas, Klingon territories, and each other as a surprising rivalry between Jim and Spock to win Captain Pike's affections escalates.Or, the one in which soon-to-be-Captain Kirk and Science Officer Spock are oblivious, Number One tries her very best to ignore everything, and Captain Pike is very amused and Into It.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock, Number One/Christopher Pike
Comments: 43
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (This is being written for nanowrimo 2019, and will be updated whenever I have a chapter ready. It is also unbetad. I apologize for all inevitable mistakes.)
> 
> _On foot_   
_I had to cross the solar system_   
_before I found the first thread of my red dress._   
_I sense myself already._   
_Somewhere in space hangs my heart,_   
_shaking in the void, from it stream sparks_   
_into other intemperate hearts. _

Captain Christopher Pike of the USS Enterprise - at least, for just a few more days - is standing in transporter room two with Number One, Commander Spock, and ensign Fitzgerald on the control panel. He folds his hands in front of him, trying to keep them still and not fidget. As someone who likes to be on the move, standing still to wait is hard. Number One and Spock seem to have no such issues - Number One is still reading over something on her Padd while Spock is standing so still he could’ve been meditating on the spot. 

“The USS Farragut is ready, sir,” ensign Fitzgerald’s voice breaks through the silence. 

“Good! So are we, Ensign. Energize.” 

“Aye, sir,” Fitzgerald nods as his hands move over the panels. The familiar hum of the transporter echoes through the room, and in a shower of gold a figure appears. 

From first glance, Pike can tell he’s young - the youngest captain in Starfleet history, or so Pike has been informed. Underneath blonde hair that’s pushed back in a cowlick are large hazel eyes. Those eyes are immediately roaming the space, taking it all in, before quickly but steadfastly settling on the three of them. Pike has no doubt he has already seen everything he has to know. 

“Commander Kirk! Welcome to the Enterprise,” captain Pike says, extending his hand to the man, who is now stepping down from the platform with such confident steps as if he’s been here for years already. 

“It’s a pleasure to be here!” Kirk says, shaking his hand with a firm grip before moving on to Number One and commander Spock. “Can’t wait to get started.” 

“First command, huh? Must be exciting. Allow me to give you a tour of the ship once you’re settled in. I’m sure you know all the specs already, but there’s nothing quite like actually seeing it. But first, mister Spock here will bring you to your new quarters.” 

“Thank you, captain. I look forward to the tour,” Kirk beams, so much excitement radiating off him it’s almost blinding. 

“Please follow me, commander,” Spock says, stepping forward. They both nod politely at the captain and his number one, and together they leave the transporter room.

“First thoughts?” Pike asks as he starts walking back to the bridge. 

Number One thinks it over for a couple of seconds, still barely looking up from her Padd. Must be some new research on there, to catch her attention like that. “He’s very young, sir.” 

“That he is,” he nods.

“He’s also very enthusiastic.” 

“That’s good, though.” 

“To us, yes. To commander Spock, I’m not so sure,” Number One muses. 

“Ah,” Pike says as he thinks it over. “You’d think after everything we’ve just been through, though…” he trails off, hoping Number One will know what he means. Thankfully, it seems she does. (She always does. It’s why they work so well together.)

“Well,” he continues. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out. For now though, let’s get going. How long until we reach Starbase 5 again?”

“Ten days, sir.” 

Ten days to get a brand new captain used to his first constitution class starship and his new crew. 

Ten days to say goodbye. 

Of course, moving on is part of life at Starfleet, and Pike is definitely up for doing something else after all these years of being a captain. Still, that doesn’t mean any of this is easy. He built a family here, and while some are going to follow him, some are also moving on themselves or continuing on the Enterprise. He’s going to miss them. He’s going to miss this ship. 

“Bridge to the Captain,” a voice over the comms announces. Pike is not sure if he’s going to miss all the sudden emergencies. 

“Pike here,” he says, pressing a button on the wall

“Sensors are picking up a vessel at approximately 3.7 lightyears distance. We’re not sure yet, but it might be Klingon.” 

“I’m on my way.” He sighs as he lets go of the button and turns to flash a weary smile at Number One. “Well. Let’s go back to work.”

\---

The new captain’s quarters are, indeed, next door to Spock 's. He’s not sure how he feels about having to share a bathroom with Kirk, considering that means that every morning before he gets his cup of Vulcan tea, he’s going to have to deal with this personification of sunshine and puppies in what, up to now, has just been Spock’s space. He’s enjoyed having this bit of extra space on the ship to himself, this extra space where he can truly retreat from the hubbub of a ship full of chatty, noisy, emotional _ humans _, and just take a deep breath for a moment. Of course he can do that in his room, but there’s something about a space where you go to physically get clean that also feels mentally cleansing. 

Spock is aware he should know better than to judge by first impressions, but his human side is currently very busy insisting he, very irrationally, does not like this new captain. 

It’s just that Kirk has, in the ten minutes since he arrived on the Enterprise, barely stopped chatting. He’s talked about being excited for his first captaincy (understandable), about how beautiful the ship is (illogical and irrelevant yet expected from a human), how excited he is to meet captain Pike and much he’s heard about him (surprisingly relatable, despite Spock having already served with Pike for eleven years). 

It’s almost as if Kirk considers stoic silence a challenge rather than a hint. At least Pike could actually take the hint, and left him alone. 

Spock is starting to regret his decision to stay on board the Enterprise instead of accepting a position as lecturer at the Vulcan University. Then again, the thought of going back to his home planet just to spend more time with the very Vulcans who have driven him away from it to begin with seems illogical at best. 

Besides, Michael wouldn’t be there either. 

He misses Michael. It’s one thing he would readily admit to had he been allowed to talk about her existence at all. He supposes he could talk to captain Pike about it, but where would he even start? Besides, the risks of being overheard are too big. No, he won’t talk about her again.

And yet, that doesn’t stop her voice from still resounding in his brain. 

What he’d said that day is still true. He’s afraid he won’t find his balance without Michael. He’d been so glad to find her again after he lost her. She’d smiled and called him ‘little brother’, and gave him the last advice she’d ever be able to give him, and it had hurt. It had hurt more than he ever could have believed possible. 

_ Find that person who seems farthest from you, and reach for them. _

“Mister Spock?” Kirk’s voice breaks through, as if reaching from a distance. He blinks, looking at his new captain. 

“Yes. I apologize. I was…reminiscing.” 

“Alright,” Kirk smiles, and it’s almost dazzling, had Spock not been forcibly reminding himself that he is a Vulcan and he should behave it like it. “I think you’re needed on the bridge.” 

His comm beeps again. “Commander Spock,” Pike’s voice says. “I repeat, please come to the bridge.” 

“Acknowledged, captain,” Spock replies into the little box in the wall. “Come with me, commander,” he says to Kirk, who, thankfully, just nods and follows him. 

\---

The vessel does turn out to be Klingon, but both ships manage to deal with each other mostly diplomatically. This would worry Pike more, had he not just witnessed first hand just how well Kirk handles a situation like this. 

Kirk and Spock had come to the bridge just when the Klingon ship had hailed the Enterprise. The Klingon captain had started their usual spiel, something about ‘crossing into Klingon territory’ (untrue) and ‘fighting to the death for honor’, which honestly was not how Pike would have liked to spend this evening. 

He had been about to respond, when Kirk asked if he could, please. Within five minutes and before Pike could really comprehend what was happening, there was a semi-friendly understanding and the Klingons were moving on without attacking. 

It was really very impressive. 

“Hang on, how’d you do that?” He asks a pleased-looking Kirk. 

“To be honest, sir, I wasn’t sure if this was going to work. But that was a civilian transport vessel, not a warbird, and considering how close we are to Yorktown and all their weapons, and also to the Romulan empire, I figured they’d be smart enough to let this one battle go. As long as we asked nicely, of course.” 

He puts a hand on his neck, looking bashful and even more youthful than he actually is. “I don’t think this’d have worked had we been anywhere else in the galaxy. It was a bit of a lucky break, honestly.” 

“You intimidated a Klingon ship right next to the Klingon border and call it luck? I guess we’re the lucky ones to have you on board already,” Pike says. 

“I would wager luck has no part in this, sirs,” Spock says. “It was a reckless action that worked out through clever reasoning.”

“Aw, don’t worry, mister Spock. I’ll get you to believe in luck one day.” 

\---

Commander James T. Kirk sighs as he looks around his new quarters. He’s just finished the tour of the ship with captain Pike and met a large portion of the crew, though with the different shifts some were not on duty and asleep in their quarters. 

Captain Pike, Jim has found, is even more charming in real life than he had expected from the photos and the stories. After the news spread that he was going to take over the Enterprise from Pike, people started coming up to him with stories of the charming, gallant, heroic captain Pike of Starfleet’s flagship. 

Jim has never been one to deny his attraction to people, regardless of gender, skin colour or species, and he wasn’t going to deny it now: Pike is incredibly attractive. Jim knows he’s not the only one who thinks this way; he’s seen how some of the crew members react whenever Pike flashes that smile of his. 

But he is also genuinely nice, supportive, and one of the most decorated captains in the history of Starfleet. And after the engagement to the girl Gary set him up with at the Academy didn’t pan out, well. Jim’s not saying he’s going to go out of his way to seduce Pike - he is still a senior officer, and it would not be appropriate to flat-out seduce him - but a little bit of casual flirting never hurt anyone. 

He shakes his head to get back to the business at hand. 

His quarters are small, but comfortable. It’s not like he’s going to spend a lot of time in here anyway, but it’s nice to know this space is _ his. _

There’s all the usual things in it: a small living space with a replicator, a small desk with a computer, and enough shelving to put up a couple of books and knick knacks. There’s an open doorway to the bedroom, with just a bed, a drawer for his few clothes, and a self-cleaning closet. 

It’s sparse, and small, and just how he likes it. He has never felt a need to put his stamp on a space just by putting stuff in it. He’s always moved around too much to really own much anyway. It’s easier to pack up and leave when you don’t have much to drag around. Everything he needs for the five-year-mission fits in the small Starfleet-issued suitcase that’s currently lying on the foot end of his bed. Someone must have put it here for him when it was beamed aboard just before him. 

That said, he’s going to be on the lookout for some plants. He read in the crew files that science officer Sulu is an avid botanist, he might have something to brighten up this space with. 

He would’ve liked some windows so he could look outside and take away some of the slightly claustrophobic feeling the space induces, but alas, apparently the ship’s designers did not think it that important. He’ll manage - there’s plenty of space to look at on the bridge, anyway. 

At the other end of the bedroom is a door that must lead to the bathroom he shares with Commander - no, Mister - Spock. 

Spock. Jim has of course read his crew file, but even before that he heard about him, back at the Academy. It was hard not to: the man is as legendary as he is mysterious. A half-Vulcan half-human who grew up on Vulcan with a human mother, but left to join Starfleet when he was 17. Apparently his father, the Vulcan ambassador Sarek, was not pleased with this decision and the relationship between them has been a tumultuous one. 

Then, of course, there was the whole “suspected criminal on the run” thing that happened last year. All of Starfleet had been abuzz: Spock, escaping from a psychiatric facility after murdering 3 staff members there, and then disappearing. 

The rumours surrounding the situation had been too wild to be believable: Section 31 had allegedly been involved, there was a whole ship that has since disappeared from all files, including its crew, as if they never existed to begin with. An admiral died. Spock just showed back up on the Enterprise as if nothing happened, and continued to serve under Pike. 

Jim knows strange things happen in outer space, but he also knows better than to trust the rumour mill at the Academy. Good things rarely come from it, and he’s glad to have his own ship where he can hopefully control the rumours a bit more. 

Well. What happened in the past with a different ship shouldn’t affect his job on this ship anymore. From what he gathered, Spock seems intent on functioning as normal, so that’s how Jim will treat him, too. So far, all he can really tell about Spock is that he’s fairly stoic, and serious about his work here, which is nothing unexpected for a Vulcan and something Jim appreciates. 

Doesn’t mean he won’t consider it a challenge to get Spock to open up a bit, though. 

He decides it’s been a long day, and he should probably get some sleep now he still can. He gets a new toothbrush and toothpaste from the replicator, and steps into the small bathroom. He doesn’t hear anything on the other side of Spock’s door, so probably Spock is either already asleep or still working. Knowing Vulcan work ethos, he assumes it’s the latter. 

\---

The next day, there’s an extended introduction meeting with the ship’s chief medical officer, Mark Piper. He’s an elderly man, close to retirement, or so Jim suspects upon meeting him, not that willing to spend years gallivanting through space anymore. 

Piper immediately sets Jim down on one of the beds, and sits down on a chair in front of him, just looking at him for a bit. 

“So, the youngest captain in Starfleet history,” Piper starts. 

“Apparently so, sir,” Jim smiles softly, looking down at his hands clutching the edges of the bed. His knuckles are turning white. He forces himself to relax a bit. 

Piper cocks his head as he still stares at Jim. “I read through your medical files before you arrived, of course. And although I assume the medical staff at the Farragut took good care of you, I’d still like to check a few things.” 

“Of course,” Jim says. Piper nods, picks up his scanner and medical tricorder, and starts scanning Jim, who is trying very hard to actually stay still. 

It’s silent for a couple of minutes while Piper works, with only the soft buzz of the scanner and the rustle of some nurses somewhere in the background breaking through the silence. 

The tricorder beeps a couple of times, and Piper hums before he puts away all the devices and sits back down. 

“That all seems fine, you’re in good health. Still,” he continues before Jim can sigh in relief. “Before I let you go, I’d like to talk about something.” 

“Go ahead,” Jim says resignedly, already knowing what’s coming. 

“I know this might be a sensitive topic, but to get through it as quickly as possible and let you get on your way, I’m going to be a bit blunt about it.” Jim just nods. 

“I know you were at Tarsus IV when the massacre happened.” 

Jim feels his body stiffen. He knew this would come up, and the doctor is right to do so. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

“I was,” he confirms.

“You were thirteen at the time, yes?” 

“Correct.” 

Piper continues, his voice just a little bit softer now. “I know since then you’ve had some trouble with food and keeping up a regular, healthy diet. Now I’ll be real honest with you: you seem healthy enough to me, and evidently Starfleet has considered you good enough to become captain, so that’s good enough for me to let you go on as you’re used to. I’ll keep an eye on you just as I do with everyone else. And if you find you need someone to talk to, we have some mental health experts on board too. I know Elizabeth Dehner does counseling on this ship on top of her research.” 

He continues talking in his regular, upbeat tone. “Of course, all this is just to say: welcome on board, captain.” 

\---

Spock prides himself on not being distracted very often. Not just while working, but at any time. Of course, growing up on Vulcan means being educated in a strict environment with a lot of emphasis on meditation, controlling emotions, and focusing on logic. But growing up in his unique situation has made it much harder than for most peers, and he’s aware of just how much effort it takes for him to consistently focus. 

Especially now that he's not, in fact, focusing. 

He suddenly finds himself just looking at the current captain, who is, at this moment, sitting languidly in the captain’s chair and leaning to the left as he leans on his elbow. Spock can see his hair from here, carefully combed back and with more grey streaks appearing all the time. 

Spock has served under Captain Pike for eleven years now, ever since he was twenty-four and setting foot on a starship as a full-fledged Starfleet crew member for the first time. Eleven years is a long time to work with any captain, but Spock is incredibly grateful that of all people, he got to work with this one for so long. 

He was also glad to get a chance to work with someone else. After all, different people have different things to teach, so it’s good practice to work with many different people. But having now met James Kirk, he’s not so sure anymore if this is what he wants. 

He feels something odd whenever he looks at Pike. 

Contrary to popular believe, he’s no stranger to feeling. All Vulcans have emotions, often more intense ones than humans, but their Vulcan heritage and training means they have their emotions fully under control. Spock, not being fully Vulcan and not having been raised fully Vulcan, struggles more. 

But it’s not only that. There’s something else about this feeling, and he’s not sure how to define it. He feels a strange stirring in his stomach, almost like a nervousness, every time he looks at Pike. 

Could this be the equivalent of the human proverbial ‘butterflies in one’s stomach’? He’s not sure. He only noticed it happening for the first time yesterday, though he’s not sure if he just didn’t quite notice it before. (Spock assumes he would, but he knows assumptions can be wrong.)

Feelings are not quantifiable, nor are they always logical. It has always baffled him how humans allow themselves to be led by them, as it makes their decision making progress erratic and illogical. 

And yet here he is, thinking about feelings while blatantly staring at his captain. 

He catches Number One looking at him in the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow at him in question. He quickly turns back to his science station, but not quickly enough to miss the beginnings of a smirk on her face. 

He’s still furiously wishing for his blush to disappear from his cheeks when he hears the doors to the bridge open. 

“Ah, commander Kirk! Come on in,” Captain Pike says as he stands up to greet Kirk. Spock’s heart does a little flip when he sees them. Hmm. Odd. 

Kirk and Pike start a small round through the bridge, checking up on everyone and chatting casually with the crew on duty. 

“Mister Spock!” Captain Pike says enthusiastically. “Anything new to share?” 

Spock sits up straighter. “Nothing of importance, sir. I did analyze the current state of the supernova but as of yet everything seems normal and I expect our distance while passing it sufficient to avoid any trouble.” 

“Very well. Thank you, mister Spock,” Pike says as he clasps his hands on his back. 

“If I may,” Kirk says suddenly, stepping forward a bit. “I noticed on your screen here this supernova is showing repeated patterns of exceptionally strong gravitational waves. Are you sure we shouldn’t bypass this by diverting our route around Archanis IV instead?” 

“Interesting theory, commander. However, that would put us adjacent to the Klingon border. And if the emission waves from the supernova are indeed as strong as you suspect, commander, they might push us into the Klingon empire instead. Not to mention there’s a nebula right there as well.” 

“Yes, or they might pull us into a black hole, and while there’s a chance of escaping the Klingons, there’s very little chance of escaping a black hole.” 

“I agree with mister Spock,” Pike says, looking thoughtfully at the screens. “I think it’s best if we try to avoid the Klingons to the best of our ability. Let’s continue on this course for now. However, Spock, please continue keeping an eye on developments and if there’s even the slightest indication Commander Kirk is right, we’re changing lanes. Got it?” 

"Understood, sir,” Spock says, turning back to his research station. 

Pike and Kirk move on, and Spock decides this is a good moment to join the astrophysics department and continue his research into this supernova there in a more peaceful and quiet environment. One without the distraction of Captain Pike. 

\--- 

Later that night, Jim is exhaustedly fumbling his way into the bathroom after a long day of meeting even more new people and learning about the responsibilities of a captain, when he finds the bathroom already occupied by Spock. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll wait,” Jim says, already turning around. 

“There is enough space here for both of us,” Spock responds, after taking out his toothbrush. 

There’s something oddly innocent in seeing the Vulcan like this. From what Jim has seen so far, Spock is always composed, put-together and highly professional. To see him now, with a towel casually slung over his shoulder and a little bit of toothpaste threatening to dribble down onto his black undershirt, well, it definitely takes a moment to get used to. 

For his part, Spock looks completely unfazed by Jim showing up shirtless, which is probably a good thing considering the amount of times Jim seems to accidentally lose or rip his shirt. It’s probably for the best that Spock gets used to seeing Jim without a shirt right from the beginning. Saves a lot of awkwardness later. 

Jim leans his hip against the counter as he waits for Spock to finish. 

“Mister Spock, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course, commander,” Spock mumbles around the towel he’s wiping around his face. 

“You seem very fond of Captain Pike. So why did you decide to stay here on the ship with me, instead of following him or joining another ship?” 

“I do not see a reason to join a different ship when this one will change immensely under the guidance of a new captain. It would also be illogical to leave my own position and change my career path for the sake of liking someone.” 

Jim shrugs. “Fair enough. Well, if it counts for anything: I’m glad you’re on my crew. Your reputation precedes you, and I’m happy to have someone with your intelligence and renown on my crew. I know I’m late in saying this, but I do hope we’ll get on well.” 

Spock stares at him for a moment, as if lost for words, before nodding once. “I could say the same to you, commander. Your reputation, too, precedes you, and I assume we will work together efficiently.” 

\---

Pike sighs as he puts his uniform on the hangers and back into the wardrobe for cleaning. He’s already changed into his usual sleepwear - just shorts and a t-shirt. He curls his toes into the carpet, relishing in the feeling of bare feet after a full day of wearing boots. The uniform isn’t uncomfortable, per se, although he wouldn’t complain if the neckline wasn’t as tight.

He’d also prefer his bare feet to be on the cool tiles of a Mojave home. 

Maybe he can try out those new holodecks he’s been hearing about, go horse riding for a bit, even if it’s all technically fake. 

Especially now that he still can. He’s well aware that this step, going from ship captain to fleet captain, while exciting and a natural progression of his career, is also a step closer to the reality where he is confined to a wheelchair. 

He still has nightmares about it sometimes. Nightmares where he’s back at Boreth, back at the Klingon monastery, seeing the visions of his future again. 

They’d warned him, and they’d been right. He still wouldn’t change what he did, it was necessary, but he’s still paying the price for it today. 

Una still sometimes has to wake him up because he’s screaming in his sleep. 

He pads over to the bed and slides in next to Una, who is still on her Padd. She’s already taken off her make-up, and Pike is never quite sure if he prefers her like this or with make-up. Not that it matters; she’s gorgeous anyway, and he’s lucky to have her by his side. 

“What are you reading that has you glued to that Padd all day?” he asks as he reaches for his own Padd to open the novel he’s been reading. 

“The Vulcan Academy has released a new report on Bajoran religion and its relation to both art and scientific development.” 

“Sounds fascinating.” 

“It is, actually. There’s a new theory that the Prophets the Bajorans worship might be an undiscovered alien race that live inside a wormhole.” 

“You know what I don’t like? That a peaceful people like the Bajorans and a military xenophobic species like the Cardassians are so close to each other. I wonder how long that’ll go well.” 

“Seems to be going well so far,” Una ponders without looking up. 

“So far, yes. I just wonder if it wouldn’t be wise for the Federation to maybe put a starbase nearby, just to keep an eye on things.” 

“Well,” Una says, putting away her Padd before turning to Chris. “No point in worrying about potential situations when there’s plenty of real situations right here on this ship, is there.” 

“I do hope we can make it through just two weeks without anything happening.” 

Una, his Number One both in work and in every other aspect of his life, and the woman he loves more than anyone, snorts. “Good luck with that.”


	2. Chapter 2

They’ve arrived at starbase Yorktown where they’re going to drop off some of the old crew and pick up some new people, including - 

“Gary!” Kirk exclaims the moment the figure walks around the corner where he is waiting with Pike for the new crew and saying goodbye to the old one. Gary Mitchell smiles and bounces down to envelop his friend in a crushing hug. 

“Jim!” he says loudly. Chris starts to smile as he watches them. It’s always great to see people reunited. 

Of course, he’s here mostly to say goodbye to crew members, some of whom have served with him for years aboard the Enterprise. But that doesn’t mean he’s not also curious about the new crew members Kirk is bringing on board. 

Lieutenant Commander Gary Mitchell is one of them. A student of Kirk and allegedly one of his best friends. Did alright in the Academy, nothing too special but apparently good enough to rise up in the ranks and get to serve on the Enterprise. Though, undoubtedly, Kirk has pulled some strings, too. 

Rumour has it Mitchell had set Kirk up with a lab technician whom he almost married. Rumour also has it Kirk and Mitchell themselves were, for a short time, a thing. 

Not that Chris puts any stock in rumours, of course. He’s never tried to control the rumour mill on the Enterprise, but he’s also done his very best to avoid giving people any reason to gossip. 

The noise in the corridor announces more people coming in. Chris watches as Kirk pushes Mitchell out of the room, whispering something to each other before they both burst into laughter. Then Kirk turns back, instantly calmer but still with a smile on his face. 

This must be such an exciting time for Kirk. First time really in command, immediately captain of Starfleet’s flagship, and then to also have some of your best friends joining you. Chris just hopes he can also form equal relationships with the people already on board, the ones he didn’t choose himself. 

Though, then again, sometimes one of the hardest things to do is to actually work with your best friends. It’s all fine and well to study with them in a safe environment like the Academy, where everything is controlled and there are professors nearby to help out. But out here, the danger is real, and Chris has seen his share of friendships and familial relations fall apart over the course of years, whether through daily stress and professional expectations mixing with personal life, or, worse, through tragedy. 

Spock is one of the prime examples of this. Pike’s heart sometimes aches for the young man. Spock might not show it, but truthfully, he is often lost. Caught between cultures, practically disowned by his father, that wild trip through the universe while they were trying to find the Red Angel, just to end with his beloved sister leaving just after they reconciled. 

It’s going to take a long time for those wounds to heal, and Chris can only hope Spock finds someone to help him regain some trust in people. And not only that - but that Spock also finds the capability within himself to reach out to those people instead of pushing them away, like he tends to do. 

Chris can’t help him with that - Spock will have to find his own people in his own time. But he _ can _ get him to go out for drinks tonight with a group of people, old crew and new. Captain’s orders. Spock tried to find an excuse, but Chris isn’t having any of it. 

“I’ll see ya tonight, cap’n!” Scotty shouts cheerily in their direction as he wanders out through the corridor, against the stream and looking by all accounts as if he’s already started drinking. Which, to be fair, he probably has. 

“Is he drunk?” Kirk whispers to him. 

“Probably, yes,” Chris whispers back conspiratorially. “Word of advice when it comes to Scotty: just pretend you don’t know about his secret stashes of alcohol. I know Piper disapproves, which is why there’s no alcohol anywhere he’d go looking for it, but there is at least one stash in a jefferies tube just outside of engineering and I think also one in cargo bay three behind some wall panels.” 

“Aren’t there Starfleet rules against that?” 

“Yes, that’s why they’re quote unquote ‘secret stashes’. I don’t think it’s a coincidence though that engineering throws the best parties on board.” 

“Hmm. I’ll have to go to one some time,” Kirk muses. “Just to make sure nothing too untoward is happening, of course. And obviously I will have no reason to ask where the alcohol comes from if no one tells me anything.” 

Chris smiles at him. “That’s the spirit.” 

This kid will go far in life, he’s sure. 

—-

That evening, part of the Enterprise crew has gathered in one of Yorktown’s many bars. Spock isn’t quite sure why he’s there too, sitting on one of the benches against the wall and feeling utterly confounded. Captain Pike may have ordered him to be here, to ‘socialize! It’ll be good for you!’, but on the other hand, the botanical department just got some new plants through trades with a Ferengi delegation. These plants from Alkalai are rumoured to be immune to almost all fungi found in the galaxy and Spock considers it his duty both as a scientist and as a senior member of the staff to keep an eye on the research (and maybe make sure the botanists weren’t deceived by the Ferengi; a possibility Spock considers more likely than such an astounding plant.) 

He can’t really blame his scientists if they got scammed by the Ferengi - it happens to the best of them. But it does happen with astounding frequency, and he’s currently considering writing an official advisory report for Starfleet on Ferengi behaviour. 

“Earth to Spock!” A hand waves in front of his face, pulling him from his musings on the best way to phrase ‘don’t ever trust the Ferengi’. 

He turns his head to find Kirk’s hazel eyes boring into him. He’s sitting right next to him, in a booth to the side of the party instead of right in the middle with the crew, where Spock had expected Kirk to be. 

“Thought you were gone there for a bit, mister Spock,” Kirk says. “Weren’t thinking about work, were you?” 

“As a matter of fact, I was considering how best to proceed on certain scientific experiments.” It’s not technically a lie, he supposes. 

“Spock!” Pike exclaims cheerily as he slides into a chair across from them. “So glad you’re here! Keeping up social relationships is, after all, one of the primary tasks aboard a human ship. Do you want a drink?” 

“Considering the amount of social gatherings on the Enterprise and, indeed, during the Academy, I did already have some knowledge on the importance of social contact to humans. However, I must remind you that alcohol does not have an intoxicating effect on Vulcans and drinking it does not give me a ‘buzz’ as humans refer to it.” 

“Yes,” Pike says, smiling brightly. “That’s why I brought you some hot cocoa. Look, they even put small marshmallows on it.” 

“Marsh..melon?”

Kirk tilts his head back in laughter. “Yes, something like that, mister Spock. It’s an old Earth tradition. I think you’ll find you like it.” 

Still eyeing both Kirk and Pike suspiciously, Spock decides to try it. Surely Captain Pike wouldn’t give him anything toxic or, even worse, something that might embarrass Spock. 

He slowly takes a sip, aware of all the eyes in the bar that suddenly seem to be focused on him. 

It tastes nice. The cocoa is pleasingly hot, and very sweet. There’s a slight kick to it, which Spock suspects might be a small amount of red pepper added to it. There’s a not-unpleasant tingle in his mouth, and he can feel the warmth of the drink going down to his belly, where it suddenly starts to spread through his body. 

After another couple of very pleasant sips, he feels a slight shift. He’s not sure if it’s in himself or in the bar, but everything suddenly seems more...pleasant. 

Ah. 

This must be the ‘buzz’ humans refer to when drinking alcohol. 

He had heard the rumours that human chocolate does have a similar intoxicating effect on Vulcans as alcohol does on humans, but up until now, he’s never had the opportunity - or the willingness - to test that theory for himself. He might write a report on the experience later, though according to his experiences with humans, he will have to check it the next day to ensure correct spelling. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it,” Scotty’s voice says suddenly from his right. Spock had not noticed him coming over. This is an oversight no doubt due to his occupied mind and the chocolate currently intoxicating him. 

Just as it was an oversight that he did not realize he’s been speaking his thoughts aloud. 

After that, he pays more attention, and it thankfully doesn’t happen again, despite his level of intoxication rapidly increasing. 

“Mister Spock, I think yer drunk,” Scotty slurs in Scottish next to him. Spock looks up to find Kirk and Pike have left him, and instead only Scotty is there, leaning with his head on the top of the couch. 

“I believe you are, too, mister Scott,” Spock tries to reply as clearly as he can. 

“Oh, I definitely am. You know, since yer stayin’ on board with us, you should come over to our parties.” 

“I can make no promises, but I might, some day,” Spock says distractedly as he notices Kirk talking to Pike a couple of tables away. Pike bursts into laughter at something Kirk says, and Spock notices Kirk looking up at Pike from under his eyelashes in a strangely coy manner. 

Spock might have been raised on Vulcan, where courtship is unnecessary considering most Vulcans get betrothed in childhood, but he has spent enough time among humans to know what is happening.

Kirk is flirting with Pike.

And it’s making Spock feel something he’s worked hard to suppress for most of his life: jealousy. 

He’s never considered himself the jealous type. On Vulcan it’s considered illogical to be jealous. It’s considered a distinctly human emotion that serves no purpose to a logical people like them. Most Vulcans barely even acknowledge it exists to begin with, let alone that one of them might feel it. 

Then again, Spock isn’t truly _ one of them _, and his half-human side is taking over the more he drinks. 

So the ugly beast he’s read about in so many novels rears its head, and before he knows it he’s off, leaving behind a stunned Scotty (who quickly shrugs it off and moves on to talk a beautiful lady at the bar, a communications officer called Nyota). 

“Hello, captains,” Spock manages to say in what is hopefully a clear and steady voice. 

Still, he might be drunk, but that look on Kirk’s face is undeniably one of annoyance at being intruded. Good. 

“Spock! Please, sit down,” Pike says, pulling a chair back for him. Spock sits down gratefully while ignoring the glares Kirk is sending him. 

“How was your drink?

“Very pleasing, thank you. I appreciated the pepper, and the marsh melons.” 

Kirk sniggers, and Spock shoots him the best-yet-most-subtle-glare he can currently muster, which, considering his condition, is probably not that subtle. Thankfully, Pike just flashes more of that dazzling smile at him, and Spock suddenly feels a bit wobbly. 

Before he can wonder if there’s something medically wrong with him, the conversation continues. 

“We were just discussing the likelihood of Gary getting himself into massive trouble with that group of Andorians.” 

Spock looks over to where Kirk is pointing, and sees Mitchell seemingly arguing passionately with a huddle of blue-skinned aliens. 

“What are they arguing about?” he asks. 

Kirk smirks, picking up his beer. “Knowing Gary? Probably a girl he wanted to pick up who was already taken.” 

“What about you, commander? Aren’t you here to ‘pick up’ someone?” 

“Why, do you want me gone so you can have Captain Pike to yourself?” Kirk is still smirking, but there’s something else there, buried carefully underneath. 

“Do I need to remind you both that I am right here?” Pike intervenes. “I know I’m considered very dashing but I’m sure mister Spock has other things on his mind. Don’t you, Spock?” 

Spock, who was still busy glaring at Kirk, turns to Pike with an attempt at an indifferent expression. 

“Of course, sir. As a matter of fact, there is something I wish to discuss.” 

“Is it ship’s business?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m afraid some of our scientists have been scammed by some Ferengi traders, and are currently trying to examine a plant species that I am fairly certain is just a common Orion weed.” 

Pike sighs as he looks mournfully at his glass of Romulan ale, still half-full. “Are they still on the ship?” 

“Yes, sir. They seemed very excited to start their research. On a related note, I will form a letter of recommendation to Starfleet to prohibit engagement with Ferengi traders.” 

“Sounds like a good idea. Get on that - tomorrow. For now, stay here. I’ll go check up on our botanists, see if I can get them to come out of their labs and join us. Kirk, can you please keep an eye on Lieutenant Commander Mitchell and perhaps remind him that he is, in fact, a lieutenant commander and might consider behaving like one? Just a suggestion, of course.” Pike takes one final sip of the ale and winces a little. 

“Yeah, I guess I better go and save his reputation before it even has a chance to be built in the first place,” Kirk says before downing the last of his beer in one go. He sways a little when he stands up, but quickly finds his footing and sets off. 

And just like that, Spock once again finds himself alone at a table in a bar. Sighing, he takes out his Padd and starts drafting a letter. 

Soon after that, he decides to go back to his quarters.

—- 

It’s late when Jim staggers into his quarters on the Enterprise after dropping Gary off at his. He’s had to half-carry half-drag Gary back to the ship, and Jim is glad to be back in his own, quiet space again. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate bars or socializing with his crew and his friends, but he does sometimes need a little space to collect himself and relax. 

It’s quiet on the other side of the bathroom, and he didn’t see Spock anymore at the bar, so he must either be asleep or have continued working. 

Doesn’t matter now. Jim has to admit to himself he was incredibly annoyed when Spock suddenly showed up at the table where he was sitting with Pike. He’d finally had his chance to really flirt, see what happens, but then that Vulcan just had to go and interrupt him. And not only that, but to suggest Jim goes off and find someone else? Jim hadn’t thought Vulcans could be rude, but here they were. 

Throwing his shirt on the floor, Jim decides to give Spock another chance. After all, it might have been the chocolate talking tonight. 

Still, something about it doesn’t sit quite right with him. Did Spock really not understand what was happening, or had this been a very targeted decision? 

And then Gary. As great as Jim thinks it is to get to work with one of his best friends, his behaviour tonight was definitely not suitable for a respectable Starfleet officer. That heated discussion with the Andorians had been very close to turning into a brawl, and Jim knows his friend well enough to know that whenever Gary is involved in a brawl, it tends to end badly for a lot of people. 

Jim had to pull rank on him in the end, which is something he never enjoys doing. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried he has to do it more often. 

Gary has always been the more impulsive of the two of them, always joking and rowdy juxtaposed to Jim’s quiet studiousness. Gary used to jokingly describe Jim as ‘a stack of books with legs’. It worked well though: Gary pulled Jim out of his comfort zone a bit, and Jim reigned Gary in enough to get him through the Academy. Their friendship has brought them some amazing experiences, but it has also meant a lot of explaining badly ended situations to Starfleet command over the years. 

Still, he hopes he can get through to Gary that this isn’t the Academy, and that Jim has something to prove here. 

He sighs as he switches on the computer to quickly check for new messages. 

There’s one from Hikaru Sulu, inviting him to stop by the gardens to pick out some plants for his quarters sometime soon. Jim almost forgot about that - he’d met the science officer earlier that day, just before Sulu had set out to meet up with his husband and daughter. 

Another one is from the Yorktown commodore, Paris, asking him and Pike to have lunch with her tomorrow. Sounds doable, and Jim presses the green check sign to confirm while he suppresses a yawn. He manages to send a quick thank you message once again confirming he will be there, and then decides it’s really time to go to sleep if he wants to be fit for that meeting tomorrow. 

But just as he’s about to stand up to go to the bathroom, he hears the door open on the other side. 

Spock. 

Suddenly, he feels that same annoyance he felt earlier at the bar, too. So he stands up, strides over determinedly without having a plan, and opens the door. 

Jim is about to start saying something, when Spock looks over like a deer caught in the headlights. He’s shirtless, with a towel slung casually over his shoulder. His usually-tidy bangs are pulled back with a clip.

He also obviously tenses up when he sees Jim, and after blinking a couple of times turns around and leaves, hastily shutting the door behind him. 

Jim is left standing there, puzzled as to what it means and what he’s supposed to do. He’s pretty sure this isn’t normal Vulcan behaviour, but then again, Spock isn’t quite Vulcan so who’s to say what’s normal and what isn’t it?

Still, combined with how he acted at the bar, things are starting to become strange indeed. He never expected his own casual flirting to be opposed by someone like Spock of all people, and while he would know exactly how to deal with this had it been, say, Gary, he has no clue what to do here. 

That is, if it’s even true, what he thinks. It looks like Spock is flirting awkwardly with Pike, but there might be something else going on, too. After all, Spock has had Pike right here on the same ship for eleven years. 

For now, he supposes he’ll give Spock the benefit of the doubt, and allow for more time to pass before he really starts judging him. 

So he takes a deep breath, and finally gets ready to go to bed. 

—- 

The following day, Chris meets Kirk in the corridor to go have lunch with Commodore Paris. Kirk looks surprisingly good, considering the stories Chris has already heard of Kirk preventing a fight and then dragging Mitchell all the way back to the ship. 

“Good afternoon, commander,” he says, nodding to Kirk. 

Kirk nods back, smiling. “Hello to you, too, captain. Ready to go?” 

“Yes, let’s go.” 

They walk in amicable silence for a while, calmly making their way through the bustle of the ship as repair crews work around them. The ship doesn’t need a lot of repairing - the robots do their work well, out in space. But a check up whenever they get the chance never hurts, and has very likely saved a lot of lives throughout the years, so Chris always makes sure to keep the ship as up-to-date as possible. Besides, the repair robots need maintaining, too, and this is a good chance to replace some parts that might not be as easy to come by while out in space. 

Judging by how amicable Kirk is greeting the workers, he feels he can safely assume Kirk will do the same. 

They pass Scotty on the way out, looking decidedly more haggard than the two of them. He’s currently trying to explain, loudly, to a terrified-looking ensign exactly what would happen if he really did connect that wire to the framework. 

“Ye might think it’s just a wire! But connecting this wire to that entry point means connecting the antigrav modules of the entire deck to the mnemonic analyzers instead of the antimatter pods. We’d all be floating around in here!” 

“So…” the ensign starts, hovering the wire in front of the framework without putting it anywhere else, and looking thoroughly confused. 

“So ye need to go back to the Academy that’s what! Ye connect this wire to the antimatter lines here and this blue wire goes to the turbolifts here and these red wires all go into the next panel to connect this framework to the mainframe,” Scotty says as he points to each specific spot, but moving his finger so quickly the ensign has no chance of actually seeing what he means. 

“It’s alright, lad. I’ll do it, you go get me some coffee. Now, off you go. Oh, hello cap’ns!” Scotty waves cheerfully at them when he spots them. 

“Let’s just keep moving, if you stop to chat he might keep going for a while,” Chris whispers to Kirk, before they both wave happily at Scotty. 

“I’ll stop by later, Scotty, to see how you’re doing!” Kirk says as they rush by. 

“That’s alright! I’m busy here anyway,” and with that Scotty turns back with a satisfied sigh to tinker with the wires himself. 

There’s some light chatting after that, just talk about the ship and how nice the artificial weather system in Yorktown is and how lovely the town looks with its waterways crossing through. 

They find the commodore already waiting for them, her hovercraft parked just behind her. 

“Good afternoon!” she says as he comes up to them and shakes their hands. Her grip is tight and strong, exemplary for her powerful position within Yorktown and Starfleet as a whole. 

“Welcome to Yorktown! I’m afraid you arrived a bit too late at night for me last night, but let me make it up for you now.” 

“Oh, that’s absolutely no problem, commodore. I appreciate the time you’re taking out of your busy schedule to meet us now,” Chris says. 

“But of course!” her smile is soft and polite, but genuine. “I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to meet with two of Starfleet’s most renowned captains. Now, let’s eat! We have a new restaurant here with some of the best earth dishes this side of the galaxy. And all freshly cooked by proper chefs, of course.” 

“Sounds lovely, commodore. Please, lead the way.” 

She brings them into a glass elevator that lifts them to dizzying heights, giving them a view over the starbase, before going into a corridor with all manner of restaurants. There are signs in different colours and scripts hanging from the walls, ranging from a dark green Romulan advertising a special noodle dish with hlai, to a surprisingly cheery little shop selling Bajoran Jumba sticks and Hasperat. 

The restaurant they go into is a small place, with just enough room for maybe twenty people. 

Right now, there’s only three other beings in there: two of a species Chris doesn’t immediately recognize, sitting at one of the smaller tables next to the window. The other one is a human behind an antique-looking oak wood bar. He’s wearing a Japanese cook’s outfit of the 20th century, and he bows slightly at them when they walk up to a round table with three chairs. 

He puts glasses of water on the table and hands them old-fashioned paper menus before quietly moving back behind the bar again. 

“Interesting place you found here, commodore,” Chris says as he looks around at the restaurant’s lush decorations in old wood and red colours. “I like it, reminds me of home.” 

Paris smiles at this. “I know, that’s why I chose it. It’s an Earth restaurant. I believe it’s a mix between Japanese and American both in design and cuisine.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Kirk says approvingly. 

“Well then, please feel free to order whatever you wish. Starfleet’s paying, so let’s use this opportunity before you both continue jetsetting through the galaxy.” 

So they do. The chef comes over again, takes their orders with a polite nod, and disappears behind the noren hung between the kitchen and the restaurant, where soon the clanging of pans begins. 

There’s small talk for a while. Chris tells some anecdotes about his adventures on the Enterprise while Kirk tells some stories of his time at the Academy. Paris listens to it all with great attention. 

The food arrives, and there’s silence for a bit as everyone takes in all the flavours. Then Commodore Paris’ communicator goes off. “Please excuse me for a moment,” she says, dabbing her mouth before going into the hallway. 

Chris sits back, one hand on his stomach. “Ah, that’s delicious,” he says to no one in particular. 

“It sure is,” Kirk replies, nodding sagely. 

They sit in a comfortable silence, just listening to the noise of people walking just outside the restaurant and the soft tones of Paris’ voice, her words indistinguishable from this distance. 

“As far as luncheons with officials go, this is definitely one of the best ones I’ve had,” Chris says. 

“I can imagine why.” 

“It can be hard, you know. You’d be surprised how often, as a captain, you end up eating the strangest and sometimes most disgusting food, out of sheer politeness.”

“I suppose it’s better than not having anything to eat at all.” He sounds relaxed and casual when he says this, but Chris can see a slight tension in his shoulders suddenly. 

“Yes, I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.” He does genuinely feel sorry about this. It’s so easy to forget someone else’s trauma when nothing about a person reminds you of it. Chris should know better, especially after the Klingon war. 

But Kirk waves it off - literally. He waves a hand in Chris’s general direction, and shrugs. “It’s alright, captain. It was a long time ago.” 

“Still. It was insensitive, and I am sorry.” 

“I appreciate your concern, but really, let’s just enjoy this moment, alright?” 

The situation is saved by Paris returning to the table. “I’m sorry about that. There was something that needed instant handling, but it’s done so we can continue with our lunch now. Unless,” there’s a mischievous glint in her eye as she stabs a potato with her fork. “You’re not telling me you’re both full already, are you?” 

—-

Later that day, after Commodore Paris has let them go with some more firm handshakes and welcomes and a “you’re both a delight, please stop by anytime you want,” Jim is strolling calmly through the botanical department’s ‘gardens’, enjoying both the plants and the relative calmness of the rooms compared to the hustle and bustle of the rest of the ship. The computers here are regular research computers, and don’t beep nearly as often as the ones on the bridge. 

It’s a quiet space, and he understands why Sulu enjoys spending so much time here. Jim’s been to the astrosciences department which Sulu is the head of, and it’s definitely a more chaotic place with an incredible amount of both computer and human noise. They can’t quite rival engineering, but they’re a close second. 

Jim turns a corner, and spots the man himself misting orchids with a loving look in his eyes. 

“Good morning,” Jim says softly, trying not to scare Sulu. 

“Hello, captain,” Sulu replies calmly without taking his eyes off the plants. 

“Pardon me for asking, but what are you doing here, mister Sulu? Aren’t you supposed to be with your husband and daughter right now?” Jim lifts a finger to one of the orchids. It’s a black one, with pastel pink dots near the edges of the flowers. It’s surprisingly soft to the touch, and Jim can swear he hears a little purring sound coming from somewhere when he runs his finger over the leafs. 

“I think she likes that,” Sulu says, finally tearing his eyes away from the plants he’s tending to. “Be careful though, some plants in here don’t like to be touched. And my daughter is at school and my husband at work, so I decided to come here to get some time with my plants.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Sulu. These are beautiful though, is this your work?” 

“Partially,” Sulu says as he walks over to the supplies room to put away the mister. “Technically, they belong to the life sciences department, but I spend so much time in here to help out they might as well be mine by now. Don’t tell the people working here that, though. Everyone feels a little protective over these.” 

“I can see why. Do they all purr?” 

“Only some of the orchids do. There’s also a cactus here that really enjoys being pet like a dog and that makes a lot of sounds. I call her Gertrude.” 

Kirk smiles. He might not be much of a botanist, but he’s always enjoyed a pretty flower. 

“You told me you have something to brighten up my quarters with, right? Did you have anything specific in mind?” 

“That depends.” Sulu leans against a counter with a water tap, crossing his arms. “How good are you with plants? Do you need something easy to take care of, or something a bit more involved?” 

“Considering the amount of time I’m going to be spending everywhere except my quarters, let’s go for something easy.” 

He walks over to a ledge tucked against one of the walls. “You can’t really go wrong with anything from Vulcan. They’re all desert plants, so they’re used to getting very little water.” 

Jim walks over, too, and looks over the small cacti-like plants. “Don’t they need a lot of sunlight, though?” 

“Yes, I suppose they do,” Sulu ponders. “There’s also some Aldebaran fig trees. We have to keep them in separate rooms because if they get too close to each other they get so excited the spores start clogging up the ventilation systems. That said, they’re very easy to breed, just put two of them in a room and within a week the room is half full with fig babies, so I’m sure no one will mind you taking one.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll bring one of those with me, then. Anything else?” Jim says, eyeing the bigger tree. “Maybe something a bit smaller?” 

Sulu thinks it over for a moment, before his eyes light up and he suddenly runs off before coming back with what looks like a lot of plump bean pots strung to a stick. 

“How’s this one for size?” he says, presenting the plant to Jim. 

“This will do just fine. What is it?” 

“We’re honestly not entirely sure. Apparently the Ferengi scammed some crew members with these, claiming they’re immune to most fungi or something ridiculous like that. We’ve been running tests, and they seem harmless enough, even if we don’t know what they are. No one’s been attacked yet, it shows no signs of any kind of sentience, it doesn’t seem to need much water or light. It’s not poisonous or venomous either.” He shrugs, shaking the plant a little. “Honestly it mostly just sits there like a regular Earth plant, except it’s not from Earth.” 

“Sounds great to me! How about I take this one with me now, and see if I can get someone to beam over the big one.” 

“Sure!” 

“And you’re really okay with me taking these plants and potentially killing them? Accidentally, of course.” 

Sulu shifts his weight on his feet as he thinks it over. “I know I love all these plants. I love taking care of them, and I love seeing them thrive. Still though, they’re plants, and almost everything we have is replaceable. As much as I may joke about them being my babies, I would happily burn them all if it meant saving my actual child.” 

“You must miss your daughter terribly while traveling.” 

“Yes. I do miss both of them. But I’d also miss the adventures of traveling through space. I guess I’ve never really been to settle down.” He softly scratches the leaf of a nearby plant and it starts to slowly turn towards him. “I hope you don’t mind my sometimes sticking her picture on the consoles, though.” 

“I know the feeling. And of course that’s alright.” Jim smiles at him. He really does. He might have almost married the girl Gary set him up with, but in the end space won over marriage, and right now, all flirting aside, he really wouldn’t want it any other way. 

—-

“Is it just me, or do both Commander Kirk and Commander Spock keep flirting with me?” Chris asks one evening over dinner with Number One. 

“Not just you,” she replies before taking a large bite of her hamburger. 

“Hm,” he hums absentmindedly before doing a double take. “Not just me? Who else has noticed, then?” 

“Um,” she pretends to be thinking about it as she slowly chews her burger. This usually means something’s coming that he doesn’t like. 

“Everyone?” she says slowly and carefully. 

“Everyone?!” he bursts into laughter, first at the thought of the entire ship seeing these two grown men blatantly flirting with a captain, then at the sight of Una staring at him. 

“Okay,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “So I guess this begs the question: what should I do with this?” 

“I don’t know. Tell them you’re already in a relationship, maybe?” 

“I could,” he muses, stealing one of Una’s fries in the meantime. She slaps his fingers, but lets him take the fry anyway. “But don’t you also get the idea there’s something else going on?” 

“What do you mean?” she’s staring at him quizzically. She’s a brilliant navigator and scientist, but Chris has always been the one with more perception into the human psyche. 

“I mean, that I get the distinct feeling they’re not actually interested in me, per se. You know?” 

She shakes her head in response. 

“Ah. Well.” He steals another one of her fries and munches it thoughtfully. “I think, what I’m trying to say here, is that I have a new, final assignment on this ship.” 

“Which is?” 

“I’m going to try and get these two to fall in love with each other instead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https//throwing-roses-into-the-abyss.tumblr.com)!
> 
> -please note that I know NOTHING of technology and the technobabble in this chapter (and, truly, this entire fic) is, genuinely, bullshit that doesn’t mean anything. 
> 
> -Yes, Commodore Paris (also allegedly Tom Paris' grandma!), starbase Yorktown, and Sulu's husband are all from the Beyond movie. I feel like the mixing of different Star Trek franchises is, in itself, a proper Star Trek thing to do. But don't worry: we've taken a brief break but we're going to continue our travels with the Enterprise in the next chapter! There might also be some chess involved.


	3. Chapter 3

They’ve only been in Yorktown for two days, but there’s schedules to adhere to, people to pick up in other places, and Chris honestly just feels ready to go. 

Most of the usual crowd is back on the bridge, with just a few minor changes among the ensigns. The ship has been completely checked and repaired, with even Scotty satisfied, which is something of a miracle by itself. 

“Mister Spock,” Pike says, turning his chair around to face his science officer, who is pretending not to have been staring at him. “Any news on that supernova?” 

“Emission rates of gravitational waves have increased by approximately 5.13 percent. However, those ratings are still within the nominal range, sir. There are no other changes.” His voice is clear of emotion as usual. 

“Thank you, commander. That means we’re taking the shortcut past the Klingon border then. Lieutenant Mitchell, set coordinates for Archanis IV, warp 3.”

“Aye, sir.” 

“Let’s go! Number One, you have the con. I’ll be in my ready room if you need me.” 

—-

Now that he’s talked about it with Number One, Chris really does notice the flirting from both Kirk  _ and _ Spock - and all the glares they keep sending each other. 

Over the past couple of days Kirk: 

  * Keeps on looking up coyly through his eyelashes. 
  * Has made some incredibly suggestive comments that almost border on inappropriate.
  * Has asked him out on a date no less than 4 times (something Number One thinks is hilarious and encourages him to actually take Kirk up on one day - she’s a terrible influence and he doesn’t know why he still keeps her around).

Spock, on the other hand: 

  * Has mostly continued doing all his regular tasks except with even more intensive reporting. 
  * Keeps finding excuses to come up to Pike to ‘discuss important matters’ that then turn out to not be quite as important as he made it out to be. 
  * Keeps getting him coffee. There have been a couple of restless nights from all the coffee, and Pike has had to start refusing them - which is too bad, really, because Spock knows exactly how to make a perfect cup of coffee for him.

“Computer, what do Commander Kirk and Commander Spock have in common? And leave out the basics like their time at the Academy,” he says as he leans back in his chair. He’s in his ready room, and probably shouldn’t be playing with fire by doing this ‘research’ here instead of his own, more private quarters, but here he is anyway. 

He wonders for a fleeting moment what the Discovery crew would do with this. Undoubtedly, Tilly would love to help out with this situation and come up with some creative solutions. Burnham would protest at first, citing Starfleet regulations, before moving straight on to tweaking Tilly’s solutions and coming up with her own. 

Georgiou would lock the two of them in a small room somewhere and then sit back while watching the security camera feed. 

He hopes they’re doing alright there, in the future. Well, not Georgiou, he’s sure she’s perfectly fine here at Section 31. It might not be the grand life she was living as the Emperor in the mirror timeline, but getting to stalk around in tight-fitting clothing while intimidating people? She’s having a great time, for sure. 

He’s not sure what admiral Cornwell would have done. That woman had always had a way of surprising him. For all his thoughts on the people he misses, Katrina is the one person he misses so much he tries not to think about her at all. 

_ Whatever your path may be, you can handle it.  _

Can he really, though? He’s not so sure, lately. 

The computer beeps to announce it's ready, pulling Chris from his reverie. 

“Computer, display results on screen.” 

The screen fills with a short list - shorter than Chris had hoped for. He’d really thought they’d have more in common. Instead, it just lists two things: 

  * James T. Kirk & S’chn T’gai Spock both speak Vulcan
  * James T. Kirk & S’chn T’gai Spock both play chess 

“Interesting,” Chris says, ideas already forming in his head. 

—-

Spock has always been aware that Kirk is a creative and exceptionally intelligent human, but this is something else altogether. 

On the table in front of Kirk, is a chess game. But not a regular chess game. This one has platforms, forcing the players to play the game in 3D. According to Kirk, this is more challenging, and thus more suitable to their predicament (these are Spock’s words, not Kirk’s. Kirk used phrases like ‘fun time’ and ‘let’s see what you’ve got’.) 

“Please, sit, mister Spock,” Kirk gestures to the empty chair across from him. 

Spock does so, folding his long limbs together on the chairs that are perpetually a bit too low for him to sit comfortably. It doesn’t matter right now - the slight decrease in comfortability might prevent him from becoming too relaxed and thus unfocused. 

“I assume I don’t need to explain the intricacies of 3D chess to you?” Kirk says with the hint of a smirk in his voice. It’s arrogant and annoying and Spock wishes he would stop. 

“I assume it’s played largely the same as 1D chess, with the only addition being that pieces can move up or down, too.” 

“Mostly correct, yes,” he waves his hand in a slow motion, palm upwards. A motion often used by humans to announce the other is allowed to go first. Spock has seen his mother, and Michael, use it in a variety of situations. “Please, feel free to start.” 

Spock takes his time, pondering over a strategy. It must be his human side talking, but his dislike of Kirk just makes him want to win even more. 

Eventually, he just moves a pawn one square forward. A standard choice, perhaps, but a logical start and perhaps enough to throw Kirk off his strategy. 

—-

Spock moves a pawn forward with just one square. Alright. A first move doesn’t say much yet, so Jim isn’t going to draw any conclusions just yet. 

Still, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t fascinated by how someone like Spock plays chess. Someone so logical and intelligent, yet at times so unpredictable and even downright human. Either he plays logically, in which case Jim is probably going to figure out his strategy within a couple of moves. Or he plays erratically, putting Jim on the wrong track and defeating him. It could go either way, and Jim is very curious to see which one it will be.

Jim hasn’t been beaten often in chess, and he’s wondering, maybe even hoping, to have found a worthy adversary. 

He takes a pawn, and moves it to the second platform. 

—-

It only takes two more moves from Kirk for Spock to really figure out how the 3D-aspect of the game works and to start using it properly. 

He moves a knight up two platforms, jumping over one of Kirk’s pawns. 

Kirk is sitting back, his hands clasped over his stomach. He looks, by all means, very relaxed and pleased. His eyes are trained on the chessboard, but they look...soft. He’s obviously paying attention but Spock doesn’t think he’s as intense and serious about this as Spock is. 

He looks as if he’s having a good time. 

“I believe it is your turn, commander,” Spock decides to say after a long bout of silence. 

“I am aware, thank you, mister Spock.” Kirk finally looks at Spock, and has the audacity to smile at him. 

—-

“Number One, what a-” Chris gets shushed by Una before he can even finish the sentence. 

“They’re playing chess,” she whispers as she keeps her Padd largely in front of her face, but just low enough that she can look over it, straight at the table where Spock and Kirk are sitting in the canteen. Her plate of Vulcan pok tar sits, untouched and forgotten, in front of her. 

Chris smiles at her. “It worked?” 

She lowers the Padd and smiles back, making all the butterflies in his stomach go wild as they always do at the sight. “Well, I’m not sure it has the effect you wanted, but they are playing chess, yes.” 

“Well then, how about we leave them to it and go over the crew reports together. Oh, and,” he gestures at her plate of pok tar. “You might want to throw that out. I hear cold pok tar is the worst.” 

—-

Jim sees Spock’s eyes glance up when Captain Pike and Number One stand up and leave the canteen. 

He moves a rook to the top of the game and takes out one of Spock’s pawns. Spock turns back to the game just in time to catch what happens, and although he tries hard to keep his face void of any emotion, Jim didn’t miss that flicker of confusion and disappointment before his features smoothed out again. 

Good. That means Jim was right in thinking Spock would go the logical route, and that he’s catching him off-guard. 

Spock folds his hands together in front of his face, one eyebrow raised as he stares intently at the game. 

Jim decides to see what happens when he pushes Spock’s buttons a little bit. He has some suspicions on what the metaphorical buttons are with Spock, and it’d be interesting to see what happens. It’ll also be good to know how far he can go once they’re really working together. 

So let’s start with the most obvious button: Captain Pike. 

“You know I’m going to win him, right?” 

Spock stills visibly. “I do not know what you mean.” He moves a pawn one level lower, putting it right in the path of Jim’s king. 

“Pike. I know we’re both flirting with him. I’ve seen how you look at him. I’ve seen how you only bring him insane amounts of coffee, and no one else” He takes out the pawn. “But you’ve had eleven years to try, and it didn’t work.” 

“I might not have been trying for the past eleven years. And there’s nothing wrong with bringing your captain coffee.” His bishop moves all the way to the top. 

“A-ha!” Jim moves his king up to the first platform. “So you admit you’re trying right now? Besides, I’m your next captain and you haven’t brought me a single coffee.” 

Spock’s cheeks turn distinctly green. “With all due respect, you’re not my captain yet. Captain Pike knows me better than he does you. We have had a lot of experiences to form a bond over. I also know him better than you do. That puts me at a distinct advantage.” 

His deep and usually smooth and calm voice suddenly rushes up and hitches a little. 

Jim snorts. “Not if you keep going on like that.” 

Spock’s hand stops moving halfway through on its way to the top platform as he stares at Jim. “I do not understand.” 

Jim laughs out loud at this. “Oh boy.” 

“I am not a boy.” 

“Ah, but see. You were raised on Vulcan, right? So you missed out on a lot of human subtleties. You don’t even know most of the colloquialisms.” 

“I assure you I have read enough Earth literature to understand enough of your way of speech.” 

Spock sits ramrod straight all of a sudden. “Kirk.” 

“Yes, commander?” 

“May I ask why you invited me to this game? Out of everyone on this ship, I have trouble believing I’m the only one who knows how to play chess.” 

“It was something Captain Pike said the other day. I overheard him talking about how you used to play chess but couldn’t find anyone to play on your level. I thought I’d take up the challenge. And considering I’m about to have checkmate, I think he was right.” 

Jim thinks this has actually been a pleasurable match, and he genuinely had a good time. Spock might have proven to be easier to defeat than expected, but he was also an interesting partner and surprisingly fun to talk to. Especially fun to tease a little, even if just to see those cheeks go bright green. 

Evidently, Spock’s human side is a very important button. 

He blocks Spock’s king with his rook. “Checkmate.” He looks up and smiles at Spock, who in turn stands up. Spock then walks to the replicators lining the walls, and gets out one coffee. 

He nods at Jim once. “This has been an enlightening experience. Thank you, commander.” 

“You’re welcome, commander.” 

And with that, Spock leaves Jim behind with a perfectly made cup of coffee, exactly how Jim likes it. 

—- 

Spock is making his way back to the astro sciences lab when a crewmember passes him who apparently wears the same perfume as Amanda. 

The scent is comforting in a way, despite Amanda obviously not being present on this ship. 

He suddenly realizes he hasn’t called her in a while. He probably should, maybe before meditating tonight, so he can talk things through with her and then meditate on them. He also tends to be a bit more emotional before meditating, and she seems to appreciate seeing his human side. This way, it would be beneficial for both of them. 

Mind set on this goal and already feeling less troubled merely from the anticipation of seeing his mother, he makes his way to the labs. 

Later that evening, he sits down to call his mother. He is aware that on Vulcan it’s quite late at night, but Amanda has never been one to sleep early so he hopes she’s up. 

Still, it takes so long for her to pick up that he’s just wondering if he should give up for today, when her hologram suddenly appears in his quarters. 

“Spock, my dearest. How are you?” The image is a bit unstable and unclear, probably due to some technical issue at Starfleet (it wouldn’t be the first time), but amidst the small glitches he can see her smile, bright and reassuring as always. 

“I am alright, mother, as always. And you?” 

“I’m fine, thank you, love. What have you been up to lately? Any juicy Starfleet gossip?” 

“Mother, you know I do not gossip.” 

“Oh, I know, I was joking. Really though, how have you been keeping up? And oh! Did you meet that new captain yet? What’s his name again?” 

“His name is James Kirk, and yes, I have. He has been on the ship for several days. His quarters are adjacent to mine, and we share a bathroom. He would be hard to avoid for anyone in this situation.” His mood must be somehow reflected in his facial expression despite his best efforts to remain neutral, because Amanda immediately sighs. She has always been able to see right through him. 

“What’s wrong, dear?” 

“Nothing is wrong, mother. I simply have not yet adjusted to the new captain and his...personality.” 

“Well, what’s wrong with his personality, then?” 

“Why do you assume something is wrong?” 

“Why do you keep avoiding the topic?” 

Swearing is illogical as it serves no linguistic purpose that can not be expressed in a multitude of other, more socially accepted ways. But that doesn’t mean that right now, Spock doesn’t wish he could just swear like the humans do. He’s heard Scotty’s very creative phrasing when something goes wrong in engineering and the captain isn’t around (not that Captain Pike would mind - he’s been known to utter his share of foul words, as did most of the Discovery crew). 

His mother always has a way of pushing his buttons, too. She doesn’t ‘take his bullshit’, as she would sometimes say.

“Fine,” he says as he crosses his arms. “I do not like him. He is conceited and too young to be the captain of such an important vessel as the Enterprise.” 

“Hm,” Amanda says. “You know, a lot of Vulcans would say you’re too young to be serving as First Officer and to be teaching, and yet here you are, at the young age of thirty-five, having already taught at the Academy and about to become a First Officer. Would you rather you not promote either, if it meant not having to deal with Kirk? What’s so terrible about him anyway? All I hear about him is that he’s incredibly smart and incredibly charming. I’d love to meet him some day, actually.” 

“Perhaps the rumours give him too much credit.” 

“Yes, perhaps. Or perhaps you need to give him more time.” She frowns through the glitches. “Or has he done something to you? Said something?” 

Spock ponders over this for a moment. If he’s completely honest with himself, aside from the flirting with Pike, Kirk has mostly been friendly and inviting to Spock, sometimes actively seeking him out for an activity he thinks Spock might think interesting, like chess. 

“I am...not sure.” It’s the best he can do, for now. 

“Spock.” It’s all she really needs to say to get him to finally open up. 

“I simply do not like him, mother. He is friendly, cordial, intelligent, inviting, and has, for the most part, been friendly to me. We played chess today, for which he invited me. Yet I still do not like him, and feel an irrational anger whenever I see him. I do not understand what to do with this, and am planning to meditate on it tonight.” 

“There is more, isn’t there.” 

“It seems we are both..” he puzzles for a moment over how to say this subtly. His family doesn’t talk about romance, or love, or crushes. It’s not the Vulcan way. And it’s definitely not Sarek’s way. Besides, he has always felt uncomfortable with the topic, possibly even more so with his mother. 

She patiently waits for him to finish the sentence without showing any sign of impatience or mocking. 

“We are both interested in the same person,” he murmurs quickly. 

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. I..did not expect that.” 

“What did you expect, mother?” 

“For you to like _ him _ , of course,” she says much too casually for something so..so…

“Mother, I am insulted at this implication.” 

“Oh, no, honey, it’s fine! It’s just that every time I hear about Kirk dating someone it’s a woman, and I kind of assumed you’re not interested in women, so I assumed from your behaviour that you liked him. I’m sorry I made so many assumptions, I shouldn’t have.” 

A groan escapes him as he starts to massage his forehead. Today is giving him a headache. First Kirk with his chess game, and now this conversation with his mother. 

“Spock, I am genuinely sorry. I shouldn’t have made any assumptions at all.” 

“It’s alright, mother. It has been a long day, is all. Besides, your assumptions were partially correct. However, it seems Kirk is less picky in his love interests than you have assumed.” 

“So now you’re fighting over a boy?” 

“Not a boy.” 

“But-” 

“The current captain.” 

“Oh, no.” 

“Unfortunately, yes. I do wish to request you do not talk about this outside of this conversation, for obvious reasons.” 

“Yes, yes, of course. But Spock, you know this is a terrible idea, right?” 

He sighs, and drops his head. “Yes, I am aware.” 

“Oh, my love.” Her voice is soft, yet almost pleading, which is making Spock feel even worse than he already did. He knows he’s wrong, it’s wrong to try and attain a relationship with a superior within Starfleet. Although, then again:

“I do have to admit I am not entirely certain of my...feelings for Captain Pike,” he says, barely audibly even to himself. 

“When did it start?” 

“Only recently. I do not understand why this is happening now, after eleven years.”

“Is there a chance you’re confusing the feelings of a long work-relationship about to end that you wish to extend anyway, with infatuation?”

“I have considered the possibility. I do not know.” 

“Feelings are hard,” she nods solemnly. He just nods back, feeling a lump emerge in his throat. 

“Spock, I want you to know that no matter what these feelings end up being, it’s alright to feel them. Even full Vulcans feel them, and you’re-” 

“Half human, yes, I know,” he interrupts her more harshly than he intended, and he winces at his own anger. “I am constantly reminded of this.” 

“Yes, and this makes things more difficult for you than for, well, anyone else, but it also makes you such a wonderful, interesting, loving person. Spock, you love so deeply and so fully, and it must be so scary for you. But whoever ends up getting your heart is going to be one lucky person, and knowing you, they’re going to be worth it. Because you don’t just pick anyone. You’re careful with that heart of yours, and that’s understandable and a really good thing, I don’t want you to change that for anyone. But I do hope you find someone, eventually.” 

“It is taking me significantly longer than my peers.” 

“Yes, but your peers were all betrothed when they were children and saw no logical reason to veer from that. That’s not you, that’s not the kind of life you want to live. You know that. You’ve always sought your own path, and you will also do so in love. I have faith in you, my dear child.”

There are tears threatening to make their way outward, and Spock is blinking furiously in an attempt at keeping them firmly inside. It’s a lost cause, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. 

“Spock, you will be alright. Love is tough. I’m sorry that you like someone who is probably not the best choice, I will admit that. Although I have seen the man, and boy, you have good taste.” 

“Mother!”

“What! It’s true and you know it.” 

A door opens in the background of Amanda’s hologram, and soon his father joins. Sarek comes to stand next to Amanda, clasping his hands on his back. She rubs a hand on his arm quickly, lovingly, before dropping it and turning back to Spock. 

“Hello, son.” 

“Greetings, father.”

“Are you well?” 

“Yes. And you?” 

“Yes. I will not disturb you for long. I assume you are having a human talk with your mother. Unless there is some urgent business I should know about?” Sarek raises an eyebrow in question. 

“There is not. I was indeed merely having what you refer to as a human talk.” 

“Good. Live long and prosper.” 

“Live long and prosper,” Spock sighs as Sarek already turns to leave the hologram. 

Amanda sighs. “I should probably go, make something to eat. Spock, take care of yourself. Think about what I said. Maybe meditate over it. And, my son, please consider giving Jim Kirk more chances. See what he is actually like? Who knows what might come of it.” 

“I will think about it. Live long and prosper, mother.” 

“I love you, Spock. Call me again soon!” 

“I will.” He ends the call, and sits in silence for a few minutes, before deciding to do this properly and meditate for the rest of the evening. 

—-

On the planet of Vulcan, Amanda Grayson closes the holocall with a smile and walks to the kitchen, where her husband Sarek is already making a cup of tea for both of them. 

Her conversation with Spock has gotten her thinking. Her relationship with Sarek was, and still is, an unconventional one. They’ve had a rocky start, and she’s had to make sacrifices to get here. Leaving Earth was not a decision she made lightly, especially not to marry a Vulcan. 

But despite all the hardships, now she’s here, in her own home where her husband is taking care of her in his own, unique, and unconventional for Vulcan standards way despite all his pressure on his children to be as traditionally Vulcan as possible. It hasn’t worked out for any of them, really, but that doesn’t stop Sarek from still trying.

Spock got his stubbornness and his tendency to make his own way as much from Sarek as he did from her. They’re more alike than either is willing to admit. 

“How is our son really?” Sarek asks as he puts her tea in front of her. It’s a Vulcan spiced tea, but slightly watered down to suit her own taste. She has never cared much for the spicy foods, preferring the ones more palatable to her American tongue. 

“Oh, Sarek. I wish I could tell you more. But I promised him I wouldn’t.” 

He looks at her with those dark, brown eyes that can seem so cold when he’s in his ambassador mode, yet so warm at home. That Vulcan duality astounded her at first, but she’s glad she’s more used to it now. It takes a while to find your way through the Vulcan way of showing emotions, but it’s there in all of them if you know where to find it, no matter how much they will try to deny it. 

“Then just tell me if he’s in trouble.” 

“In a manner of speaking. But nothing you need to worry about,” she smiles into her cup of tea, sniffing at the spicy fumes coming off it while basking in the comfortable feeling of the warm cup in her hands. 

After all, she is using her motherly intuition to deduce what is going on, which is something she has never been able to explain to Sarek. 

But right now, her motherly intuition is telling her that despite what he might say or believe himself, Spock is falling in love with Jim Kirk. 

—- 

The next evening, there is a dinner on board. Chris has invited Una (of course), Kirk, Spock, Mark Piper and Scotty for a dinner in his own quarters. It’s to be part goodbye for Chris and part introduction of Jim. 

These are some of the people that know him best, and some that are going to have to know Kirk very well - and Kirk them. After all, Kirk will have to rely especially on Spock and Scotty, and for another year or so on Mark before he retires. It’s vital they form a good working relationship, and right now it doesn’t look like Kirk and Spock are starting off well. 

Of course, all this is also part of Chris’ plan to get them to get along incredibly well, as he said one evening to Una while winking at her. She had groaned and buried her face in her hands as she pretended to be annoyed. 

Neither Chris nor Una can actually cook, so it’s going to be a replicator dinner, but that’s not stopping them from loading the table with all kinds of delicious food. 

Chris puts his hands on his hips as he looks at the table approvingly. There are dishes from all over the known galaxy, from Vulcan plomeek soup to Earth sweet potato fries, Bajoran larish pie, and I’danian spice pudding. Chris has also folded some napkins into an intricate looking design, and there are vases of flowers decorating the table. 

“I’d say we’re ready,” Chris says, happy with how it all turned out. 

“Hmm, just one more thing,” Una says, putting down the latest science report that caught her attention before she walks up to Chris, her skirts rustling slightly as they sway. She reaches up a hand, and starts gently fixing his hair and the collar of his suit jacket. “You had some hair sticking out. Now, you’re ready.” 

He takes her hand, and presses a kiss to it. “Thank you. You look amazing, as always.” 

“Of course I do,” she smiles, kissing his cheek in return. 

The doorbell rings, and opens to reveal Spock. He’s wearing traditional dark blue Vulcan robes, with Vulcan calligraphy embroidered on it in white. He bows slightly, awkwardly, before stepping inside.

The next to arrive is the doctor, dressed as always in his (thankfully, clean) medical uniform. Chris often wonders if the good man even owns anything else, but judging by this, he probably doesn’t. 

Soon after that Kirk arrives, in his green Starfleet dress uniform. He’s quickly followed by Scotty, who comes in huffing, wearing his Starfleet shirt but with a kilt underneath. Chris sees Una appreciatively staring at Scotty’s legs. She shrugs when Chris clears his throat before smiling and sitting down. 

“Sorry I’m late! There was a small issue in engineering, nothin’ to worry about, I fixed it and we’re all set.” 

“Thank you, mister Scott. But don’t worry, you’re right on time,” Chris says as he welcomes Scotty inside. 

The dinner starts off well, at first. There is some pleasant small-talk while people are enjoying the first dishes. 

Still. Chris has noticed that despite putting them across the table from each other, so they’re forced to look at the other regularly, Spock and Kirk are carefully avoiding talking to each other and keep looking at everyone else at the table. 

“So, Jim - is it alright if I call you Jim? We’re all off-duty, after all,” Chris starts. 

“Yes, yes of course. You can all call me Jim,” Kirk says, flashing that charming smile of his again. 

“Jim, how’d you enjoy the chess game with mister Spock the other day? I noticed you two were playing in the cafeteria.” 

“It was...eventful,” Jim says. Chris doesn’t miss how Spock’s spoon hits the plomeek soup bowl a bit harder than before. “I had a lot of fun though. It was a challenging match, and I’d love to play again some time.” 

“Who won?” Number One asks innocently, eyes wide as she pops another piece of Andorian vegetable cake in her mouth. 

“Commander Kirk did,” Spock says, glowering a little at no one in particular. 

“Jim, that’s very impressive!” Scotty says. “No one’s beaten our Spock before!” 

“Lord knows I’ve tried,” Piper adds with a rueful smile. 

Jim fidgets a little bit in his chair, feeling everyone’s eyes suddenly on him. “I could tell we were well matched, but I’m sure Spock will beat me soon, once he’s figured out what I’m like.” 

Finally, Spock’s eyes look up, straight into Jim’s eyes, who looks back unflinching, tilting his chin ever so slightly as if challenging Spock. 

“And what do you suggest I do to figure you out, as you put it?” Spock suddenly asks. 

“You could try talking to each other,” Una suggests, dipping fries into ice cream for some unfathomable reason. As horrified as Chris is by the current conversation, it’s not coming anywhere close to the horror of seeing fries dipped in ice cream. 

“We already speak to each other regularly,” Spock says coolly. 

“Do we really, though? We’ve spoken a few times, sure, but just as often you just seem to run away from me,” Jim says, frowning. 

Scotty shrugs. “You’re not very talkative though, are ya, mister Spock? I don’t think you’ve ever chatted with me about anythin’.” 

“I do not see a logical reason to ‘chat’.” 

“Other than to socialize with your crew and build up a good relationship and gain trust, so you can work well together and count on each other in times of emergency?” Jim replies. He speaks faster now, and is sitting up straighter. 

“I assume that doing my work well will earn me respect and many of the same results. This is my job, I am here to work. Socializing is a human activity. I feel I must remind you that I am not, in fact, human.” 

“But you’re half human and you work on an almost entirely human ship.” 

“That doesn’t change my nature.” 

“Do you know the saying ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do’? You might want to consider that. It’s the logical thing to adapt to your surroundings.” 

“The logical thing is to stay true to your nature, which is unchangeable. Why would I deny my heritage for the sake of fitting in.” 

“I’m not telling you to deny your heritage completely. Integration, not assimilation. You can fit in while still being Vulcan.”

“And yet your phrase ‘when in Rome,’ does suggest I should assimilate rather than integrate.” 

Scotty is looking back and forth between them as if he’s watching a tennis match, albeit an uncomfortable one, while occasionally shooting a confused look in Chris’ direction. Number One looks, by all accounts, as if she’s enjoying a good tv show, and is still casually munching away on some fries, although she’s now dipping them in Cardassian yamok sauce. Mark Piper is refilling his glass with Romulan ale and undoubtedly well on his way to getting drunk by now. 

Chris takes a deep breath, and is about to start saying something to stop this pair sounding like a pair of children, when Spock throws down his napkin and stands up. 

“I am grateful for your hospitality and delicious dinner. However, I have work to attend to. I will see you again on the bridge, tomorrow.” And with a bow to Scotty and a glare to Kirk he strides out of the room, leaving behind a stunned silence. 

Then Jim stands up, too. “Thank you, Chris, Number One. This was a lovely dinner. Let’s do this again sometime.” He smiles at all of them, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and then he, too, walks out of the room. 

“Cap’n, what happened there?” Scotty asks, still holding his glass of Scotch without actually drinking it. 

Chris sighs. “An experiment going wrong, I’m afraid. Do you want some more of this quiche?” 

“Captain, you’re needed on the bridge,” the com panel suddenly announces in Lieutenant Rox’s voice, just when Chris is lifting the quiche onto Scotty’s plate. “It’s a matter of some urgency, sir.” 

And then the ship lurges. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Captain, you’re needed on the bridge,” the com panel suddenly announces in ensign Rox’s voice. “It’s a matter of some urgency, sir.” 

“Acknowledged,” Chris replies, trying to avoid getting covered in food as everything falls off the table. 

He’s just standing up when the ship suddenly lurges again and tilts to one side. He notices Mark falling over and Scotty rushing over to help him back up. 

“Computer, red alert! Pike to bridge, what on earth is going on?” 

“Sir, it’s the supernova,” Rox continues. “It exploded, but the explosion is so much bigger than we anticipated, and it’s still increasing.” 

He gestures to the rest of the dinner party. “Leave all this. Battle stations everyone. Una, follow me to the bridge.” 

They arrive to a bridge in sheer chaos. There are alarms going off everywhere, and people are looking haggard as they run back and forth between different computers. 

“Captain on the bridge!” ensign Rox manages to shout over the mayhem from the front consoles. Number One runs over, pulling up her skirts, to the computer next to her and frantically starts pushing buttons. 

“Status updates everyone, start with the shields.” 

“Shields are down to fifty-eight percent,” Ensign Fitzgerald says.

“Another wave incoming, everybody brace yourself!” Number One shouts, just seconds before the ship lurges violently as another wave full of particles and energy from the explosion hits them. 

Chris grabs one of the red rails in the bridge just in time. 

“Number One, get us out of here!” 

“I can’t, sir! Warp core, impulse drive and navigation are offline. We’re doing all we can to keep the shields secure right now.” 

“Scotty!” 

“Aye, sir!” Scotty’s voice comes over the speakers. 

“Status update on the warp core! How quickly can you get us out of here?” 

“Sir, I’m afraid the supernova is emitting too much radiation and it’s interfering with all our systems. I can’t rely on any of the computers, and the dilithium crystals are breaking into pieces.”

“If we can’t trust our systems, are we sure the shields are up?”

“Frankly speaking: no, sir,” Scotty says. “We’re tryin’ to get a miniature magnetic shield around engineering to see if it works, but no promises yet.”

“How long until that’s ready?”

“The keyword here is ‘trying’, sir. We don’t know. I’ll keep you updated on any progress.”

“Number One, can we still move the ship in any way at all?” 

“We might be able to turn around with the thrusters, sir, but that’s it,” she replies without looking up. “Another wave incoming.” 

“Alright,” he has to pause when the ship is hit again and everyone is just holding on for dear life. “Can you put us in a position where we can ride the waves instead of them crashing into us?” 

“Possibly, sir.” 

“And can somebody tell me how long this is supposed to continue for and where we’re headed?”

“Commander Spock should have more insight into that,” Number One replies. “But we don’t know where he is, he’s not on duty.” 

“Captain to Commander Spock, please report.” 

There’s no response. 

“I repeat, captain to Commander Spock, please report.” 

Chris sighs. This is worrying - Spock always replies unless there’s something wrong. 

“Computer, locate Co-” 

“Captain Pike! Kirk here. I’m with Spock in sickbay. He’ll be alright, just a head injury, but he’s out of commission for now. I’m heading over to the bridge to assist you in whatever way I can.” 

He speedwalks into the bridge minutes later. 

“Commander, thank you for joining us,” Chris says as Kirk walks to the nearest computers and starts pressing buttons. He’s somehow found time to change back to his regular uniform. 

“No problem, captain. What’s our status?” 

“Warp core and impulse drive are down, as is navigation. Our shield is barely holding, the dilithium crystals are cracking, and engineering can’t work because their computers aren’t functioning. Number One is currently trying to put us in a better position using thrusters, so we can ride the waves instead.” 

Kirk looks pensive as he stares at the screens. 

“Yes, but we’re heading into bigger problems.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, as you said, navigation is down so we can’t be a hundred percent sure, but based on our heading, our last recorded location and the location of the supernova, we’re heading straight into the nebula just across the Klingon border.” 

“Oh, fuck.”

\---

Spock is currently very busy being incredibly annoyed at himself. He’s in sick bay, stuck on a chair with a splitting headache while the medical staff runs around treating more serious injuries. 

And all that happened to him was that he slipped in the bathroom when one of the first emission waves from the supernova hit them. He’d gone there to freshen up, wash his face before changing back into his uniform, but obviously that never happened. 

The supernova that was evidently worse than he’d anticipated, just like Kirk had warned them. But he’d missed the data, he’d missed the warning signs, and he’d ignored Kirk, and now they all have to pay for his mistakes. And not only that, he couldn’t even go to the bridge to at least try and fix some of it because he  _ slipped _ in the  _ bathroom _ and now he’s stuck in sick bay. 

The worst part is that he’d hit his head on the counter, and Kirk had come running, picked him up like he weighed nothing despite Vulcans being substantially heavier than humans, and single handedly carried him here. 

Kirk had been very dashing and heroic and Spock could not be more embarrassed about the whole ordeal. 

He decides to try and meditate, so he can speed up the healing process. But the headache and the chaos around him, not to mention the blaring alarms, are making it hard. 

As is the remaining feeling of Kirk’s hands on him. 

Spock has always prided himself in the Vulcan characteristic of not being able to lie. The amount of times he has had to say ‘Vulcans do not lie’ to his human coworkers is astounding, but it had been the truth every single time. 

This means that right now, in this moment, Spock can not lie to himself, either: he liked being picked up by Kirk, and he liked having those hands on his body. 

Upsetting. Disgusting. Illogical. 

He manages to catch a nurse’s eye, and she comes over to him.

“Commander Spock! You haven’t been seen to, yet?” 

“No, although I understand you’re busy. However, I fear I might have a concussion, or a brain injury of some sort.” 

She runs the tricorder over his head, humming softly to herself, then snaps it shut. 

“I don’t see anything strange. All you have is a superficial head wound. Why do you think you have a concussion? I might have to run different scans.” 

“I simply do not feel quite myself.” 

“Okay. Let’s do some old-fashioned tests, see if anything shows up there.” 

“Old-fashioned tests?” 

“Yes. I learned about them recently. These are some techniques they used to examine head trauma before they had tricorders. Now, please follow my finger with your eyes.” She moves her finger slowly from side to side. 

“Hmm. Seems alright. Now, close your eyes and touch the tip of your nose with the index finger of your right hand. Now your left.”

Spock is intrigued. “These are some fascinating techniques. Using basic body functioning to determine brain damage. And these are old-fashioned techniques, you say?” 

“Yes, they’re good aren’t they. Now are you experiencing any dizziness, nausea, do you see any stars, anything out of the ordinary?”

“No.” 

“Were you unconscious at any point between hitting your head and now?” 

“I do not believe so.” 

“Well congratulations, mister Spock. You don’t have a concussion. Now let me clear up that wound of yours, and you can go right back to work. I’m sure the captain needs you. If you do start experiencing anything out of the ordinary, you can come right back, alright?”

“Understood.” 

He did understand this, the physical aspect. But if he doesn’t have a concussion, then...what does that mean for him and Kirk? 

\---

Jim is still staring at the computer screens, when the waves start to lessen. He knows the screens don’t necessarily make any sense, what with the emission particles and radiation messing with all their systems, but he doesn’t need to see the right information on the screens to know they’re in big trouble. 

They’ve been pushed right into a nebula, just like he’d warned. If only Spock hadn’t been too stubborn, and had seen the warning signs. 

He just doesn’t understand why Spock behaves the way he does. It doesn’t add up with everything Jim had heard about him before he got here. Or at least, from before last year’s madness started. It makes you wonder what Spock really went through that whole time, and if he’s actually completely recovered before rejoining the crew. Did he even grant himself any time, at all? 

Right now, however, there’s more important things to worry about. Jim makes a mental note to himself to go through Spock’s file again once he’s fully captain and talk to him about what happened, see if maybe the man needs more shore leave, or perhaps some time back on Vulcan. 

For now, let’s worry about getting out of here alive so he can actually make it to captaincy to begin with. 

He suspects that right now they’re inside the nebula, which is on the one hand great. This is a notoriously dangerous nebula with dense particles, which makes it a great cushion for all the radiation and emission and should protect them from that. It also, however, makes it near impossible to get out. And that’s not even counting the strong energy currents running through it. 

So on one side of the ship there’s a supernova exploding, pushing them away and hitting them with radiation and particles, causing their systems to malfunction. On the other side is a nebula, cushioning them from particles but also bludgeoning them with energy currents. They’re surrounded by the Klingon empire, and close to multiple large Klingon planets and undoubtedly in the path of a lot of Klingon ships. 

Jim groans, and buries his head in his hands. This is truly big, big trouble. Then he stands up, and walks over to Captain Pike. 

“Sir, may I make a suggestion.” 

“Yes, please.” 

“I suggest we completely power down all non-life support systems, save for the shields.” 

Pike turns around, and stares at him. “All of them?” 

“Yes,” Jim nods. “Most of them don’t work anyway, so they’re just using energy pointlessly now. Going dark means saving energy, giving us more chances to survive and repair and more energy to put into the shields. And it means we’re less likely to be spotted by enemy ships.” 

“Agreed. Let’s do it. Number One, you heard him. Start shutting down all systems. Give a shipwide notification first, so everyone can prepare accordingly.” 

“Aye, sir.” 

“Scotty?” 

“Yes, cap’n?” 

“We’re going to shut down all non-life support systems. That includes the warp cores and most of engineering. Is there anything there that isn’t safe right now and needs a containment field?” 

“Aye, sir. I’ll look into it and send a list of the exceptions through to the bridge.” 

“Thank you, Scotty. As quickly as possible, please.” 

“Got it.” 

“We’re also going to be sending people to you for any repairs that need to be done around the ship, can you keep an eye on what needs doing?” 

“Aye, sir. We already have an overview. I’ll make sure my team is here to help guide people.” 

“Thank you, Scotty. Commander Kirk, could you go over to engineering and help out with repairs, too? If you work together with Spock, you won’t need any guidance from anyone from engineering. I know you have your differences, but let’s put the needs of the ship first.” 

“Yes, of course. The ship always comes first,” Kirk says without any enthusiasm., before walking out of the bridge. 

“Ensign Rox, please open communications for a shipwide message.” 

“Aye, sir. It’s ready, sir.” 

\---

Spock is on his way back to the bridge when all the lights go off for a second before the emergency lights switch on. The captain’s voice sounds through the ship: 

_ This is a message to all crew members. We are powering down all non-essential systems to both preserve energy and to hopefully avoid being seen by the Klingons. As you all might be aware already, the supernova explosion was bigger than we anticipated, and we have been flung into a nebula just over the Klingon border. I need everyone who knows anything of repairing ships to report to engineering. The only exception to this is medical staff and those deemed unfit to work at the moment. We’re going to have to repair as much as we can without our robots, and that means we need everyone to chip in. Those of you without any experience in repairing things, please report to the bridge, we have plenty of other tasks as well. Captain out.  _

Five minutes later, Spock reports to Scotty. 

“Mister Spock! So glad to see ye. Commander Kirk’s already here and waiting for you. Captain’s orders are for you two to work together. Here, take this PADD, there’s a list of repairs you can do,” Scotty says as he picks up a PADD from a haphazardly stacked pile of them on a desk next to him. “Please start with the mainframe repairs in the jefferies tube on deck six. Something blew out there, I’m not sure what.” 

Spock takes the PADD slowly as Kirk walks towards them. He’s already carrying a toolbox and flashlights. 

“Well then, mister Spock. Looks like it’s just the two of us. Let’s put aside whatever’s going on and just get the ship fixed, alright?” Kirk says as he extends his free hand towards Spock. 

“Of course,” Spock says with as little emotion as he can muster. 

“Bye, Scotty!” Kirk turns back to Scotty as they start walking away. “Good luck with everything here!” 

“Thank you, commander! You too!” Spock doesn’t miss the wink that precedes the bright smile. The smile on Scotty’s face disappears quickly when a new ensign comes up to Scotty, looking incredibly young and incredibly nervous. 

Then the doors close behind them, and soon he’s alone with Kirk. 

\---

Jim catches a glance of the PADD’s information over Spock’s shoulder. 

“If you require information, you can just ask,” Spock says, irritation dripping from his every vowel. Jim mentally snorts - no emotions, indeed. He’s met human children with more control over their emotions than Spock. 

“Alright then, mister Spock. Where are we going first?” 

“Scotty has requested that we go to the jefferies tubes on deck six first. He has very helpfully provided us with a map of where to go.” 

“That’s great! I suggest we go into the tubes around the corner here. That way we only have to go down a few levels and then crawl for a little bit.” 

The maps are actually genuinely useful - the tubes are a maze that run through the entire ship, and even just the ones on deck six comprise hundreds of meters. Now that the turbolifts are running on limited capacity and are needed by other people, they’re better off using the tubes to get around the ship. 

“I agree,” is all Spock adds before they fall back into silence. 

They find the entrance to the jefferies tubes, and Spock goes in first to lead the way. Jim looks at Spock going down the ladder, his usually perfectly styled hair still a bit messy from the fall earlier. He’s glad Spock seems to be his usual self again, even if that means a lot of silence and short, terse replies to everything Jim says or asks. 

He sighs, lifts the toolbox up, and goes into the tube as well, softly closing the hatch behind him. Spock switches on his flashlight as soon as the hatch is closed, lighting the way for Jim as well. Jim would almost be grateful. 

It takes just a couple of minutes of slowly climbing down to reach deck six, but then they quickly realize the placement of the broken section on the map is wrong. 

“Is it just me, or are we just going round in circles?” Jim asks, only half-joking. 

“It is not just you. It would seem the PADDs do not have the correct place. We might have to scan every panel.” 

“Do the scanners work right, though?” 

“Unknown.” There is a trepidation to Spock’s voice. Undoubtedly, he’s not looking forward to having to spend this much time with Jim. 

Jim sits back, leaning his back and his head against one of the sides of the tunnel. 

“So what now?” 

Spock is still staring at the map, as if it contains all the answers in the galaxy, even though it doesn't currently contain any answers whatsoever. 

“Perhaps we should split up. We can start where the problem was reported to be, and then split up in opposite directions.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

They move to the first panel, and mark it with a marker. The inside of this one seems fine. Scanners indicate everything working properly, there’s no suspicious flickering or smoke, nothing smells funny. 

They look at each other, shrug, and Jim starts moving back where they came from while Spock moves forward in the jefferies tube. 

After about twenty minutes of methodically working his way through all the panels, Jim opens the next one. A puff of smoke immediately flies into his face, and Jim shouts and flies back without thinking, hitting his head against the wall opposite. 

“Kirk! Are you alright?” Spock comes crawling around the corner as quickly as he can - which, if you ask Jim, is impressively quick. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jim says, rubbing his head. He can feel a bump forming already that he’s sure the doctor will not appreciate having to treat. Then again, it’s probably for the best that Piper gets used to Jim being a regular in sickbay now before he’s captain. 

“Though I suppose we’re even now,” Jim adds jokingly. 

Spock frowns. “I do not understand.” 

“You hit your head, I checked up on you. I hit my head, you come to check up on me. We’re even.” 

“It is only logical to make sure a coworker is not severely injured.” 

“Yes, it is, I suppose. Either way, I found the faulty panel.” 

Spock finally turns around, taking his eyes off Jim for the first time. He’s quiet as he scans the panel while Jim joins him, wincing slightly as he moves. 

“I can confirm now the scanner is not functional.” 

“That’s good to know, at least. Guess we’ll have to depend on our eyes and the good old screwdriver, then.” 

Spock puts the scanner away after frowning at it some more. Jim opens the toolbox, and starts working. 

They work in silence for a while, before Jim clears his throat nervously.

“So, what happened earlier?” 

“I do not understand to which event you refer.” 

“I mean at Pike’s dinner. What happened there? How come we can, apparently, never just talk?” 

“We are talking now.” 

“You know what I mean, Spock.” Jim is getting frustrated and irritated again. It’s not like him to be like this, but there’s something about Spock that just pulls it out. 

“I believe we had another disagreement.” 

Jim throws his screwdriver down. It lands on the metal floor with a loud clang that reverberates through the tubes, undoubtedly scaring some poor ensigns somewhere else. “I know that! I just don’t understand why we keep having disagreements!” 

Spock just looks at him calmly, but Jim can see something happening in those dark eyes. 

“I assumed it was because we are both, in a way, interested in Captain Pike.” 

“But surely you understand it’s just some flirting on my side and nothing serious?” 

“I..did not understand that. And I am not sure if that makes things worse or not. Because I believe I am serious about this.” 

“Well why didn’t you do something earlier? You’ve been on this ship for eleven years! Why start now?” 

Spock fidgets with the hem of his robe. After he ended up in sick bay in his robes, he apparently didn’t have another opportunity to get changed, and has been working in his traditional clothing. Jim kind of likes it - he looks good in the robes. They suit Spock. 

It’s interesting to note Spock fidgets when he’s unsure. It’s so...human. 

Then it hits Jim. 

“You’ve never been in love before, have you.” 

The eyes quickly flicking up and immediately back down and the flush rising on Spock’s cheeks tell Jim everything he needs to know. 

Jim sits back again, leaning on the wall next to the broken panel. 

“Mister Spock. I think I owe you an apology.” 

“I do not see wh-” 

Jim raises a hand, interrupting Spock. “Let me finish what I want to say, please.”

Spock nods slowly, but Jim figures that’s good enough. 

“Alright, so,” Jim starts, taking a deep breath. “I’m right in assuming you’ve never been interested in anyone before, then? Or at the very least, have never acted on it before?” 

“Correct.” Spock says after a short pause. He shuffles on his knees a little, obviously uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is taking. 

“What if I helped you?” 

Spock blinks blankly at him. 

“Really! What if I helped you. I could teach you how to flirt. I like to think I have some experience in flirting.” 

“I do not see how this would benefit you.” 

Jim shrugs. “It would give me the opportunity to get to know you better, get a better work relationship, and it would create a better atmosphere on the ship. I hope. Either way it’s important to me as future-captain that I get on well with my first officer. Maybe this will help.”

“I am...uncomfortable with this idea.” 

“I can understand that. If this really makes you uncomfortable, then forget about it, it’s fine. Then I’ll just promise to stop flirting with Pike myself and that’s it. But, Spock, think it over. Sleep on it. And then let me know what you think, alright?” 

“I will think about it.” 

“And, Spock. I just want you to know I am genuinely sorry. I did not realize how big a deal this is for you. From now on, especially as we have to work so closely together, let’s at the very least make sure we’re more open to one another.” 

Spock looks at him, his dark eyes boring into Jim’s. Then he nods, once. “That seems like a wise decision.”

Jim can’t help but beam at him. 

They continue fixing the panel in companionable silence, and make it through the rest of the list without any more mishaps or miscommunications. 

By the time they’re done several hours later, Jim has worked multiple shifts with just a disastrous dinner in between and feels like he’s about to fall asleep standing. 

“Commander,” Spock’s voice cuts through his sleepy haze. “Commander, you are at risk of electrocuting yourself right now. Please go rest. I can continue the remainder of the list by myself.” 

Jim wants to react, but a yawn stops him, so instead he just nods and puts his hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You get some sleep too, Spock.” 

“As a Vulcan, I require less sleep. I can still work for another five hours at least before I require any rest at all.” 

Jim nods sleepily. “Alright, then I suggest we meet up for breakfast tomorrow at eleven, before our shift starts.” He pats Spock’s shoulder once, only very vaguely registering Spock’s muscles tensing up, before he leaves.

\---

Chris is still on the bridge, assigning tasks and places to different people and keeping an eye on the progress in engineering, after more than twenty hours since the dinner party. He is, frankly, exhausted, but there’s so much work to be done and so much to keep an eye on, that he’s just kept going. Number One has left for a while, on his orders, to get some sleep, and she’s just returned in her regular uniform. 

He’s considering finally getting some sleep, when ensign Rox announces they’re being hailed. 

“On screen,” Chris says, turning away from the computers to see what’s happening. 

“Now what is the Federation’s most important ship doing here, stuck in a nebula on our side of the border?” the Klingon appearing on screen starts before Chris can say anything. He’s casually twirling an elaborately decorated knife. 

Great. Klingons. Exactly what they’d been trying to avoid. 

“Greetings,” Chris replies as calmly as he can. “I am Captain Christopher Pike of the Starship Enterprise. I’m sure you want us out of your hair, and trust me when I say I’d prefer to be on the other side of that border, too. Unfortunately, it seems we might need your help to get out of here.”

It’s a bold choice, to request help from Klingons in this day and age. Tensions have been high between the Federation and the Empire since the war, and Chris knows there are preparations in case the relations go sour again. 

But he doesn’t really see another choice here right now. Or maybe he’s too tired to think of another possibility. 

“Yes, I can see that you do. Please, allow us to help you.” Chris does not like the way the Klingon is smiling. 

“I’d invite you on board, but I’m afraid with all our systems down we don’t have much to offer you right now.” 

“Oh, no, no. Captain. Why don’t  _ you _ join  _ us _ ?” 

From the corner of his eye, Chris sees Number One tense up in her seat. She knows better than to show any worry, but he can tell she doesn’t like this one bit. To be fair, neither does he. 

But they do really need help. They’re not going to make it out of this nebula by themselves, not with all that interference messing with their systems, and especially not with those broken dilithium crystals. 

He hears the doors to the turbolifts slide open behind him, and two pairs of footsteps coming through. 

“Alright. Thank you for your offer. I would like to come to your ship to discuss possibilities. I would like to bring two members of my crew with me, if that’s alright with you?” 

“But of course,” the Klingon says with exaggerated kindness. Chris doesn’t trust this at all, something’s not right here. “We will transport you over when you’re ready.” 

The screen cuts out suddenly.

Chris turns around to see Spock and Kirk standing behind him, waiting calmly, side by side. 

“I do not think this is a wise decision,” Spock says. Kirk nods in agreement. What happened here? A day earlier, they could barely stand the sight of each other, and now they’re here together, agreeing? 

Chris makes a mental note to get Scotty a nice, fancy bottle of alcohol in thanks for whatever it is he did. 

“I know,” Chris says. “I don’t trust them any more than you do. Which is why we need a plan. I need you two, Number One, and Scotty, in my ready room as soon as possible.” 

Soon, they’re all sitting around a table again, although this time without Mark Piper, who is still busy treating people, and without quite as much food on the table.

Chris clears his throat. “We all know now what happened, and none of us actually trust these Klingons. So the question is: who should I bring to the Klingon ship, and how are we going to make sure we all get back to the Enterprise safe and without starting another war.” 

“I will come,” Spock says. “As not only a Vulcan, but as the Ambassador’s son, I have a certain advantage.” 

“Yes, and so will they if they have you captive. The amount of demands they can have for an ambassador’s son is immense,” Kirk adds.

“That is assuming they can take me captive in the first place. I must remind you that as a Vulcan I have superior strength, and I have combat expertise.” 

Chris has to admit to himself he would feel better with Spock at his side. And he agrees with Spock - a Vulcan ambassador’s son will bring some diplomatic weight to the discussion, and hopefully make the Klingons think twice about pulling some weird stunt.

“I will come,” Number One says suddenly. 

“Absolutely not,” Chris replies without even thinking about it. 

Una shoots him a glare. “I have saved your ass so many times, and now you’re making me stay here?” 

“I think you’re more useful on a tactical level from a distance. You know that that’s what you’re good at.” He does mean it: she’s good at anticipating trouble and arranging solutions from the bridge, she’s less good at face-to-face diplomacy. He loves her brashness, but it won’t do in a situation like this.

“I’m calling bullshit,” she says, eyebrows knitted together in barely contained frustration.

“That doesn’t matter. I need you here on this ship, and I’m ordering you to stay. I suggest Kirk and Spock join me instead. You both have diplomatic experience, your ranks bring weight to the discussion, and hopefully the Klingons know that if they do anything to the three of us, they will have to explain themselves to the whole Federation.”

Number One huffs and leans back, crossing her arms. As soon as he’s back, he’s really going to have to make it up to her, but for now, she’s just going to have to deal with it. 

“Now, the Enterprise. Obviously, Number One’s in charge while we’re gone, but we’re going to have to do some reshuffling of assignments, too.” 

“Can I make a suggestion?” Kirk says, leaning forward on the table. 

“Go ahead, commander,” Chris gestures at Kirk to continue. 

“I agree that Number One is in command. But can I suggest Hikaru Sulu comes up to the bridge? He’s a trained pilot, he’s smart, I’ve seen his records and he can get the Enterprise out of here quicker than anyone else should the need arise. At least, as soon as Scotty has enough of the ship fixed to start moving again.” 

“Cap’n, that might take a while,” Scotty starts carefully. “We’re working as hard as we can, and I have half the crew working on repairs, but without those dilithium crystals and as long as we’re inside this nebula, we’re not goin’ anywhere.” 

Chris lets that sink in for a moment. 

“Either way,” he continues after a while. “Try and get the ship as ready as possible, so we can depart the moment we get warp back. In the meantime, bring Sulu op to date and get him up here, make sure he’s at least somewhat familiar with the controls of this ship. Commander Spock, commander Kirk and I will try and get as much help from the Klingons as we can manage, but let’s assume for now we won’t get any help at all and this is a hostile ship. If something happens to us, and you have a chance to leave, then I order you to leave, understood?” 

Number One and Scotty glance at each other, and nod once. “Aye, sir,” they both reply, yet somehow Chris has the feeling they just agreed to something else entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are changing on the Enterprise! So here's the thing: Jim and Spock were NOT working with me the previous couple of chapters, and then this change just sort of...happened? And I hope the characters will work with me a bit better from now on! But also we're (temporarily) leaving the Enterprise next chapter so, we'll see what happens! It's a surprise for everyone! Including me!
> 
> And yes, I took some more liberties with canon. I'm too tired, and too far behind on nanowrimo, to look up canon facts. Think of it as some extra surprises for everyone! What will I change this time? No one knows!
> 
> Speaking of nanowrimo: I'm more than 5000 words behind right now, so the next update might take a little bit longer. 
> 
> Shoutout to everyone who's been sticking around so far, y'all are amazing and keep me going <3


	5. Chapter 5

The Klingon ship is dark and smells bad, and the Klingons themselves are angry and smell bad, and all in all Chris is straight up not having a good time here. 

It’s not helped by the fact that he is currently chained to a pole somewhere, while commanders Kirk and Spock are being held somewhere else entirely. His communicator and phaser have been taken, and he has no way of contacting, well, anyone. He’s exhausted and his adrenaline is wearing off. He just hopes that, despite the incredibly slim chance of this, the Enterprise is somehow getting out of here, that Number One is taking everyone to safety and getting Starfleet’s help. 

It had all started out so well. The Klingon vessel had pulled the Enterprise out of the nebula with their tractor beam, and as soon as there was less interference, had beamed him, Kirk, and Spock over to their ship. 

There, the late captain of the ship, K’ryl, had welcomed them in. Discussions were started - and going well, although Chris kept that nagging situation that they were being lured into a trap. He was never going to find out though, since halfway through there was suddenly mutiny just outside the room where they were talking. 

Apparently there were some Klingons aboard who had lost family members during the war with the Federation and saw an opportunity for revenge. 

Before they’d really realized what was going on, the door slammed open and a group of mutineers had forced their way in. They had challenged K’ryl to a fight, right there on the spot, but he had not survived. 

Chris had tried getting the Enterprise to beam them out, but a Klingon warrior standing next to him had taken his communicator and smashed it, snarling at him before grabbing his arm and taking him to where he was now. 

There are footsteps coming down the hallway, and Chris quickly tries to fix his face into what he hopes is a confident expression. 

“Where are commanders Kirk and Spock?” he demands, trying to look as impressive as possible while being a hostage and with his hands literally tied. 

The two Klingons look at him, and suddenly start laughing. 

“Look at how puny they are,” one of them growls. “Can you believe these weak beings have killed so many of us.” 

“They’re nothing without their ships and their weapons,” the other one growls in response as he looks down on Chris. 

Well. If there was ever a good side to knowing his awful future, it’s knowing that at the very least he will make it through whatever is going to happen here. 

The worst part is not knowing the same about anyone else. Kirk and Spock could already be gone. The Enterprise and everyone on it could already be gone, powerless as they were, just sitting ducks in Klingon waters. 

He should’ve listened to Kirk when he said the supernova was going to be much worse. 

He reprimands himself: judging yourself by past actions has no use in the present. 

One of the Klingons frees him, and starts pulling him up. The bad Klingon smell is so, so much worse from this close by, and this particular Klingon seems to have a very particular odour to him that is extraordinarily appaling to Chris’s nose. 

“Where are you taking me?” Chris asks. He doesn’t expect an answer, but it’s worth a try anyway. 

“You will meet the new captain. Then you will fight him to the death. If you live, we will consider letting you go,” the other Klingon grunts. 

Now that just doesn’t sound at all appealing. 

The walk through the dark hallways of the ship seems endless, just row after row of dark reds and browns and the occasional angry-looking Klingon. Some of them snarl at Chris, some sharpen their swords overdramatically, looking up at him from where they’re sitting with undisguised hatred in their faces. Each time their swords reflect light at him is an unspoken threat. 

If anything, Chris appreciates their flair for drama. 

Finally, they reach a large chamber that looks like it’s used for ceremonies and battles - which is mostly the same thing to Klingons anyway. 

Then Chris catches sight of some bright yellow and blue against one of the walls. Kirk and Spock are sitting there, on the floor, flanked by multiple warriors. Kirk’s shirt is somehow ripped across his chest and Spock has a cut on his cheek, but they’re awake and seem alert enough, and Chris has a short moment of relief until a weapon is thrust into his hands. 

“Federation captain!” a voice booms in the back of the room. There’s a throne there, and the Klingon sitting on it stands up slowly. Chris recognizes him as the leader of the mutiny and the one who killed Captain K’ryl. 

“My name is Captain Christopher Pike of the starship Enterprise.” 

“I do not care for your name, human.” 

“I would like to know yours though, care to share it?” Chris says, trying to sound confident and relaxed even though he’s anything but. It’s a skill that has come in handy a lot of times before. It’s expected from Starfleet captains to have this skill, though not all of them quite manage. 

“Yes, it would be honourable to know the name of the person who will defeat you in battle. My name is Qurul, and as captain of this vessel I challenge you to a fight to the death.” 

“Why?” Chris asks, crossing his arms. 

Qurul stops. “What do you mean, why?” 

“Why do you want to fight me to the death?” 

“Because the Federation is responsible for the death of my family and I wish to take revenge!” Qurul roars through the room. His voice echoes from the walls. 

“What happens if you lose?” 

“I am a trained Klingon warrior, you are but a mere human. I will not lose. You will die, today.” 

“Yes, alright, but what if you do lose.” 

Qurul smiles. “Then all honour to you, and good luck fighting the next Klingon warrior, and the next, until finally you do die. We are all seeking revenge.” 

“And if you win?” 

“You will be dead, and I will have my revenge.” 

“So, you’ll let my fellow Starfleet commanders and my ship go?” 

“No. I will kill them, too. Then, I will take your bodies to Qo’noS and show them to the High Council. That way, I will gain even more respect and followers, take over the Empire, and start a war. And this time, we will actually win! Now, I am getting bored of this conversation. Let us fight!” He bellows the last words into the room, and all the other Klingons erupt into shouting. The sudden cacophony is dizzying, but amidst the noise he can see Kirk and Spock use the opportunity to talk to each other. 

\---

“Do you think we can somehow distract them long enough to escape this room, at least?” Kirk asks Spock when the room bursts into cheers. 

“It seems doubtful. There are many Klingons here, and not a lot of places to hide.” 

“Alright,” Kirk sighs. “Next plan: do you think we can steal some weapons and help Pike fight them?” 

“I do think we could steal weapons to defend ourselves. However, I feel it is my duty to remind you that you have already tried to fight them, and failed.” 

“Hmm,” Kirk says, apparently thinking about it. It’s really a hopeless situation, and Spock sees very little alternative to hoping that help shows up in time. “Hang on, stay here,” Kirk says, before sliding to the left and quietly slipping behind the wall made of Klingons standing around the edge of the square in the middle of the room. 

Spock feels useless, just sitting there while Captain Pike is being challenged to fight and Kirk is off doing…whatever it is he’s thought up. 

The battle starts, and it doesn’t take long before Spock notices the telltale signs of Pike starting to struggle. Close combat has never been his strong point, and already his feet are having trouble keeping up with the quick pace of the attack, his boots squeaking on the stone floor as he dodges one attack after the other. 

Pike catches Spock’s eye, before suddenly swerving aside and moving backwards, away from Spock. 

Spock gets the hint - Pike is leading the Klingons’ eyes away from him, and giving him a chance to run. 

He starts to turn to crawl away like Kirk did, just to come face to face with the man instead. Kirk’s face is so close to his own, Spock can still smell the coffee he brought Kirk earlier. His hazel eyes are staring directly into Spock’s own, and from this up close Spock can see the colour gradients in them, despite the lack of proper lighting in the room. 

“Quick, follow me,” Kirk whispers before turning around and sneaking away. He is carrying a knife, though Spock doesn’t know how he got his hands on that. 

Spock follows his example, and together they manage to sneak behind the Klingons. Spock notices Pike keeps turning his opponent away from them, evidently keeping an eye on them as they run. He tries not to think about what will happen to Pike when they leave this room. His exhaustion is sure to overtake him at any moment, and Spock can only hope he manages to prolong the battle for as long as he can. 

Kirk leads Spock to a corner in the back, where a vent shaft opening is covered by a metal plate with holes in it. Considering the abysmal smell on this vessel, Spock is surprised to find anything even resembling ventilation. 

Kirk uses the knife to pry loose the metal covering to reveal ventilation shifts just big enough for them to crawl through. 

“Lucky thing we’re not wearing large Klingon armour, right? And I just so happen to know you and I both have recently gained some experience in crawling through small spaces to repair things. I’m sure we can do the opposite, too.” 

“Yes, I see where this plan is going. However, we must hurry. The captain won’t last much longer like this.” 

They look back at Captain Pike, who is still dodging blows but getting visibly slower, the sweat dripping off his face. 

“You go, commander,” Spock says. “I will stay here to help the captain.” 

Kirk looks at Pike once, who almost stumbles over his feet. Then he nods, and, after one last glance at Spock with a strange, unfamiliar look on his face, crawls into the vents and quickly disappears behind one of the corners. 

Spock can only hope the commander will know where to go and what to do. 

He takes a deep breath, and steps into the square. 

\--- 

Jim is crawling as quickly yet quietly as he can, the Klingon knife between his teeth. It’s not a pleasant sensation - these knives evidently don’t get cleaned very often, if ever, and the taste of blood and iron is not one he will ever get used to - but it’s the best way of bringing such an unwieldy weapon. 

He doesn’t like the idea of leaving Pike and Spock behind to fend for themselves. Pike was obviously already on the verge of collapsing, and although Spock might have a stronger constituency than humans, he has also already gone through several fights today. 

He turns another corner in the vents, when suddenly the smell of burning meat and rotting food mixed with sweat and leather gets incredibly strong. There is a lot of noise down here, Jim can hear intermittent loud shouting over the constant rumble of angry talking. Jim is never sure if the Klingons are actually always angry, or if they just sound angry because of the way they talk like some unfortunate Earth languages do, but he’s inclined to believe it’s the former. 

Slowly and carefully climbing on, he reaches another one of the vents with holes and he decides to take a quick look where he’s at before he continues. 

As he suspected, he’s above what probably passes for the canteen on this ship. It’s a dark space, lit only by flames coming from what look like stone pillars placed throughout the space. The Klingons are gathered around one table, cheering at one of them who is standing on top of the table, shouting loudly in Klingon. Jim can see some of them raising their weapons up, while some of them cheer with massive glasses of red bloodwine. 

The person on the table is a woman. She’s wearing armour, with a golden skirt and intimidating looking black and gold boots. Her hair is tied back in an intricate looking braid that falls down her back and sways with her as she moves - a clear sign she’s in battle mode. 

Jim only has time to vaguely wonder what side she’s on, before her eyes flicker up and she looks straight at Jim. 

He doesn’t stick around to wait and see what happens after that. 

Jim can hear the shouting continue until after he’s rounded a couple of corners more. It’s worrying, but hopefully something he’ll have to deal with later rather than sooner - although preferably they get rescued before he has to deal with even more rebellions. Past experience tells him he’s going to have to deal with the situation himself though. It’s fine, he’s used to it now, and he kind of likes the independence. 

He climbs carefully down a segment that slopes downwards, and at the end finds exactly what he’s been looking for: the Klingon ship’s equivalent of the jefferies tubes. And they, too, have important mainframe panels hidden inside it. Bless the engineers in this galaxy for having similar thought processes, it makes hacking alien ships so much easier. 

And just like on most Starfleet ships, there’s no one inside them right now. 

Jim pries open the metal covering while holding it, and slowly climbs out of the vent, glad for the sudden extra leg space as he stands up in the intersection of four tubes. 

There’s a row of panels right in front of him. They’re not even covered by anything, just a lot of wiring and blinking lights exposed to the ship’s recycled air. There isn’t any writing to help know what’s what, but Jim figures it probably doesn’t matter much. Considering, again, how most engineers seem to think the same way, combined with how the Klingons like to wear black and red to intimidate everyone else, the red wires are probably connected to life support systems. 

And that means, he’s going to - 

“You want to cut two of the blue ones right in front of you,” a voice says behind him. 

Jim turns around slowly. The female Klingon from earlier is standing behind him, leaning against one of the sides. She has her arms crossed in front of her, as if she wants to look casual, but her piercing eyes show just how serious and focused she actually is.

“And why would you want to help me?” 

“Because,” she says, pulling away from the wall to stand next to Jim. “You want to get out of here alive, with your captain and fellow commander, and I want to prevent another war with the Federation. Now, if I were you, I’d hurry up and cut those cables.” 

“What will happen when I do?” 

“You will break the climate control on the entire ship. That will make it unbearably hot - but especially so for the Klingons in all their leather armour. Your fellow commander, as a Vulcan, will likely be just fine.” 

He doesn’t have much of a choice. It’s either follow this strange woman’s instructions and trust her on her words, or stare at the panel longer while guessing which wires to cut. 

So he decides to follow her suggestions, and cuts the wires.

“Now cut that red one at the top,” she points at one of the thinner wires, quietly tucked away. He cuts it, and all the lights immediately go out.

“Wait here, and I will go get your people and beam you all back to your ship.” Immediately, she turns around and walks away, leaving Jim behind by himself, in the darkness. 

\---

The room is plunged into chaos. All the lights went out a minute earlier, and since then Spock can feel the temperature in the room climbing higher and higher. 

He’s picked up the captain, who is currently barely standing on his own and mostly hanging from Spock’s shoulder by one arm. Pike is exhausted and injured and, no doubt, currently overheating. Thankfully, he grew up on a desert planet and is much more comfortable with high temperatures than humans and, apparently, Klingons. You’d think a species surviving underground near volcano vents would be better capable of handling heat, but Spock isn’t about to complain about having the upper hand here. 

Still, there’s the issue of the light. Spock might have better sensory perception than humans, but even he needs at least some light source to be able to see, and right now it seems there are none. That means making his way to the doors blind, without knowing where any of the Klingons are, and while dragging the captain’s mostly dead weight with him. 

The upside is that the Klingons also can’t see anything, don’t know what’s happening, and are definitely overheating and starting to slump to the floor. Some are bumping into each other (and getting very angry about it), which is a lot of noise Spock is suddenly very thankful to have, as it makes avoiding them that much easier. 

Spock has been slowly picking his way through the room by memory and sound alone, when he finds the opening in the wall that must be the doors. 

Around the corner (which he managed to turn without hitting anything or anyone) he notices a small light coming his way. 

When it gets closer, he sees it’s carried by a woman, who immediately extinguishes the light, then gestures at them to be quiet and to follow her. 

“Do it, Spock. Follow her,” the captain whispers as quietly as he can. 

They stick as closely to the woman as they can manage, and although it takes a while, she leads them through the corridors to what seems to be the entrypoint to maintenance tubes. She whispers for them to wait here, and then opens the hatch and pulls someone out.

She comes back, followed by Kirk, who immediately comes over and helps prop up Captain Pike’s other shoulder. He nods at Spock, who nods back at him, before they both turn back to the woman. 

She quietly leads them away again, through the darkness and the now sweltering heat of the ship. 

They’re almost at the transporter pad when the lights and the vents suddenly flicker on. 

“Quick, we must hurry,” the woman immediately says before taking off. “I will transport all three of you back to the Enterprise and disengage the tractor beam. But after that, you’re on your own.” 

“Thank you so much for your help,” Kirk says, sounding very out of breath. “Please, tell us your name.” 

“My name is Tvorek. I am a supporter of the Mother, L’rell, and Voq, and I am trying to gain more support for the Federation from within the Empire. The war killed many in non honorable deaths, and I do not want a repeat. Now, step on here,” she says, pointing at the transporter pad.

They hurry on it, still carrying Pike between them. There’s shouting in the distance and the sound of footsteps running towards them. 

Tvorek starts pushing buttons, cursing under her breath. 

The door opens, and a couple of Klingons would come through if it wasn’t for Tvorek immediately pointing a Starfleet phaser at them and shooting. Spock wonders for a moment whether she’s set it to stun or kill, but then the transporter comes back online, and everything disappears. 

\--- 

The moment they’re back on the Enterprise, Pike really sags between them, almost dragging Jim down to the transporter pad. 

“Spock to sick bay. We require medical assistance immediately.” 

“Acknowledged, sending a team over right now,” Piper’s voice says over the comm.

Together with Spock, he carries Pike off the platform and slowly lowers him to the floor. 

“Kirk to bridge,” Jim says as soon as Pike is lying down and Spock is keeping an eye on him. Pike is breathing heavily and obviously weakened, though thankfully he’s still conscious. 

“Welcome back, commander,” Number One’s voice responds. “Is everyone back alright?”

“Yes, although Captain Pike needs medical attention. What’s our status, and how quickly can you get us out of here?” 

“Impulse drive is almost repaired, but we are still diverting most energy to the shields, sir. Warp drive reparations requires materials we don’t have on board.” 

“In that case: shields up as much as possible, and red alert. Are any of our weapons ready?” 

“Phasers are ready, but only if we drop shields and divert energy there instead. Photon torpedoes are ready to go but only available in limited capacity.” 

By now, the medical emergency team has come rushing in, and is already checking Pike. 

“Have them ready and aimed at the bridge and the nacelles of the Klingon ship. I’m coming over to the bridge with commander Spock. Kirk out.” 

“You’ve got Captain Pike?” he asks the medical team, who are already putting him on a stretcher. 

“Yep! We’re good. We still need to run a lot of tests, but from what I can see so far, he’s over exhausted and needs fluids and rest. I’m not seeing any serious injuries yet. Do you want us to keep you updated?” 

“Yes, please send a report to the bridge once you’re done running tests or if anything changes.” 

“Will do, sir!” 

Honestly, kudos to this medical team for being so cheery. Jim has met his share of grumpy doctors, but the nurses and paramedics are somehow often really happy people. He supposes you have to be at least a little bit cheery to be able to handle a job like that. 

Jim and Spock arrive at the bridge just a few minutes later, but the Klingon ship is already firing at them. 

“Shields are down to forty-eight percent!” Ensign Park says. 

“Fire photon torpedo!” Number One says from the captain’s chair. 

“Aimed and...fired, sir,” Sulu says from the con panel. 

They all watch as the viewscreen shows the Klingon ship being hit. For some reason, their shields are completely down. Jim suspects Tvorek had a hand in this. He can only hope she’s okay - nothing they can do now to help her out. 

“Sir, they’ve lost control of the ship. They’re not going anywhere anytime soon,” Number One announces. 

“Good.” 

“Neither are we, sir,” she adds. 

“I am well aware, thank you. Still, this will hopefully give us some more time before their back up troops arrive. Speaking of which, have we heard from Starfleet yet?” 

“No, sir. We’ve been trying to send distress calls, but there might have been too much interference, as there hasn’t been a reply yet.” 

“Spock, can you and lieutenant Alden work on that?” 

“Aye, sir.” 

\---

The two ships have been in limbo together for a while. Both without any way of moving, any way of contacting each other, just keeping an eye on each other while teams on both ships are working hard to get everything fixed to the best of their abilities. 

Chris has woken up again in sick bay, and is about to be released when Number One comes in. 

“Captain,” she says calmly as she walks up to the bed. 

“Number One,” he nods at her. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Much better. Apparently, I mostly just needed to sleep. I’m definitely very sore, though,” he groans as he tries to lean on his arms. 

“I heard you had quite the exercise on the Klingon ship.” 

“Yeah, though from how it feels, I might have needed that. Remind me to go to the gym more often, will you?” 

“I’ll make a note of it,” she smiles with relief. 

“So what’s the status?” 

“The status,” Piper interrupts, “is that you need more rest. You’ve only slept for seven hours, after a shift of over 30 hours that also included strenuous physical activity and getting kidnapped by Klingons. There’s only so much I can cure, you do need to sleep at some point.” 

“Mark, I’m fine,” Chris says as he tries to sit completely upright, still groaning. 

“Don’t ‘I’m fine’-me. If you were fine, you wouldn’t be having such a hard time just sitting up.” 

“Maybe, but this ship is stuck in Klingon territory and it needs its captain.” 

“Yes, and from what I’ve heard, commander Kirk is picking things up extraordinarily well. The ship’s in as safe hands as it can be, everything considered. You can rest. So how about you make use of the fact that there’s an extra captain on the ship and rest up for when he really does need your help.” 

“He has a point, you know,” Number One adds as she lets Chris lean on her shoulder. “We’re at a lull now, neither ship is going anywhere, you’ve just been through a rough experience. My shift is over, too, so let me bring you to your quarters and we’ll have dinner together, how’s that sound?” 

Chris sighs in defeat. He hates it when people team up against him. But if he’s honest with himself, sitting down for dinner and then getting some more sleep does actually sound good. 

And maybe it’s time to admit to himself that he’s really getting old now. Maybe the time of running around with the young ones truly is over. 

He just hopes it doesn’t mean all adventures are now over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter than usual, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! We'll be seeing more of Qurul and Tvorek later, but first, one of my favourite characters will join us...


	6. Chapter 6

“Commander Kirk, sensors indicate another ship incoming,” ensign Fitzgerald says. 

“Can we identify them?” Jim says, turning away from Spock’s con panels where he had been discussing the latest research on symbiotic organisms on the moons of Alaxar V. 

“No, sir. They have cloaked their identity.” 

“Commander, we’re being hailed,” Lieutenant Alden says. 

Jim frowns. If it’s more Klingons, he might just throw something at the screen. That’d be the last thing they need right now. 

“I’m fairly certain it’s not a Klingon ship, but I don’t know what it is instead,” Fitzgerald adds. 

Jim sighs. “Show on screen.”

The screen changes to show a confident-looking human woman, who frowns slightly the moment she notices Jim. 

“You’re not Captain Pike,” she says with an accent Jim has trouble identifying. 

“Correct. I am Commander James Kirk, and I am currently in command of the Enterprise. Captain Pike is presently not available, so you’ll have to deal with me.” 

“Hm. You’re not bad looking. I’ll accept it.” Jim hears Fitzgerald snort somewhere behind him. 

“I am Philippa Georgiou. I heard you could use some help,” Georgiou says, smirking on the view screen. “Got yourself in trouble in Klingon territory, did you?” 

“Hang on. Captain Georgiou? I’ve heard of you, you’re -” 

“Dead. Yes, yes, I know. Long story, I’m sure Pike will love to tell you one day. Either way, I’m coming to your ship, please prepare a transporter room. Let’s talk.” As flippant as she is about who she is, she’s definitely very flirty. That ‘let’s talk’ had innuendo dripping from it like chocolate from - 

Ahem. Jim cuts off  _ that  _ thought real quick. 

“Acknowledged. Lieutenant Alden, you have the con until Number One gets back. Spock, please come with me. Let’s go and welcome our new guests.” 

—-

“I hear you’re moving on to a new job,” Georgiou says to Pike, sipping her tea and looking incredibly comfortable despite all the tight leather that can’t be fun or practical to move around in. Spock suspects she doesn’t care about that as much as she cares about her aesthetic and looking as intimidating as possible. 

“I’m being promoted, yes,” Chris replies to her. 

After having picked up Georgiou and two ‘lackeys’ as she described them from the transporter room, she’d left the two other Section 31 staff members to ‘go roam around, or whatever it is you do’, before asking for a meeting with Pike and a proper cup of tea. So they’d moved to the captain’s ready room, where Pike had already been waiting for them. 

She had then looked at Kirk, and raised an appreciative eyebrow. “So you’re James Kirk, the new captain.”

Kirk had smiled as he blatantly looked over her tight, black clothes. “I sure am,” he had said. He might not have shown it outwardly, but Spock’s eyes couldn’t have rolled harder in their sockets. Metaphorically, of course. 

“Please tell me you’ll change the colour of the bridge. The orange is horrendous and hurts my eyes. Pike never listens to me when I say he should change it.” 

“What colour do you suggest then?” Jim asks, looking coyly up at her through his eyelashes.

Spock recognizes this technique - he’s seen Jim use it on Captain Pike countless times. He feels a twinge of annoyance. Section 31 has just showed up to help, which should be enough to tell anyone the situation is even more dire than they thought, and Kirk is..flirting? Does he just flirt with everyone he finds even remotely interesting? 

It feels incredibly unprofessional to Spock, and he’s not quite sure how to deal with it. 

“Gold, of course,” Georgiou says. “It shows how powerful and rich you are and intimidates your enemies. Plus it’s shiny.” 

“I think it’s tacky,” Pike adds. “And the orange is Starfleet’s decision, we have no power to change it.”

“Of course you do, you’re the captain of this ship. Just go to a different planet, send all the crew off on shore leave, and have the locals paint the bridge in the meantime. No one can stop you, you know.” 

“Georgiou, may I require as to why you are here?” Spock says, hoping to interrupt whatever is going on and getting back to business. 

“Mister Spock! I liked you better with the beard. And the leather.” 

Spock can feel his cheeks grow slightly greener as Kirk turns towards him, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint that can’t mean anything good.

“Now there’s a sight I’d love to see,” Kirk says, as the traitor he is. 

“It was a sight worth seeing,” Georgiou nods as she takes another sip of her tea, calmly sitting back in her chair. 

“Georgiou, on topic please,” Pike interrupts. 

“Yes. Klingons. We have it on good authority that there is..unrest..within the empire. We already have inside people investigating it, but then the Enterprise disappeared for a while, just to pop up again across the border? It was suspicious and worrying, and we have to get you out of here as quickly as possible. Of course,” she leans back casually. “This is all just an excuse to go into Klingon territory and do some recon myself. After all, I was Dominus of Qo’noS once. I’d love to relive those days.” 

“We’re not letting you become an Emperor again, you know that, right?” Pike says, looking sternly over his cup of coffee. 

“Well, it was worth a try,” Georgiou shrugs. “Alright, fine. We’re here to talk to L’rell, and see if we can make up a new plan to prevent another full-out war. Our first course of action is, like I said, to get you out of here. But I’m afraid the situation has become diplomatically complex, since they essentially kidnapped you and tried to kill you. Starfleet’s not happy, it took a lot of effort to prevent them from sending a ship full of angry admirals this way. Talk about a sure way to start a war. It’s like they didn’t learn anything.” 

She’s visibly annoyed as she shakes her head, her long hair swishing in its usual ponytail. 

“I find it difficult to believe they would send you to resolve diplomatic tension,” Spock says. 

“First of all, no one sent me. I decided to come. Secondly, what are you trying to suggest there?” Her voice sounds sweet, very smooth and untroubled, but he can hear the edge of threat beneath it. It’s a clear warning, but Spock has learned long ago to not be afraid of her. If Michael could deal with her, so can he. 

“I don’t find you capable of actual diplomatic discussion. Especially considering your..background.” 

She leans forward now, looking casual as she leans one chin on her hand, but her other hand is slowly tapping her long fingernails on the table. “You’d be surprised at the amount of diplomacy needed when you’re an Emperor.” 

“Threatening to kill people if they don’t do as you ask is not a valid form of diplomacy.” 

“Neither is boring them to death with logic and semantics, yet here you are.” 

Kirk coughs to interrupt them, while Pike just calmly sips his coffee. 

“What can we do to help?” Kirk asks.

“Try not to get kidnapped or killed, for starters,” Georgiou immediately replies. 

“Duly noted. Anything else?” 

“We think the Klingons were originally planning on bringing you to Qo’noS to be made an example of. There’s a large rebel faction intent on starting a war, and they’d have been happy to see you all killed in a very public way. Of course, as you are aware, there’s also a part of that faction perfectly happy to kill you on the way and then display your bodies in the capital to gain support for their cause.” 

“Where are you going with this?” Chris interrupts her. 

“Let me finish, please,” she says with only thinly disguised impatience. “The point is, we’re taking you to see the right Klingons that are on our side.” 

“To make a different kind of example of us?” Kirk asks. 

“You, and some other things, yes.” 

“Do we want to know what these other things are?” Chris asks, sounding resigned as if already knows the answer. 

“Probably not.” Georgiou smiles, and continues sipping her tea. 

\---

The whispers about Section 31 being aboard spread like wildfire through the ship. This was to be expected, considering Georgiou is about as subtle as an actual wildfire. 

Interestingly however, there are more whispers about what’s going on between Jim and Spock. Apparently, people have been picking up on  _ something _ , even if Jim thinks it’s funny how they got it just slightly wrong. Although he supposes he’s okay with the crew distracting themselves from the situation by focusing on something relatively harmless. 

And if he sometimes pours droplets of oil on the fire by standing a little bit too close to Spock, or smiling at whatever he’s talking about, well, surely there’s no harm in any of that. 

Even if he sometimes also does this when it’s just the two of them. Jim hasn’t really thought too much about it yet, but he knows these last couple of days he’s found a certain comfort in the closeness of Spock.

They haven’t gotten round to practising any flirting yet, what with everything that happened in the meantime, but tonight they’re having dinner and playing chess, and Jim is looking forward to a calm evening in, hopefully without any Klingons or technical difficulties interfering. 

Or Georgiou, for that matter. Jim won’t deny he finds the woman intriguing. She’s intimidatingly smart, and exudes such an air of confidence and superiority that most people stay out of her way without thinking about it. Her comments about being an Emperor also pique his interest. What does she mean? She couldn’t really have been an Emperor, could she? She doesn’t come across as someone who would just make those things up for attention. From what he can tell, judging by the way she talks about it all so casually, she really, somehow, has been in a massive position of power. Yet now she works in obscurity for Section 31, an organization so secret most of Starfleet barely even knows it actually exists. Pike, Spock, and Number One all seem to know more about her, but no one’s talking about her or explaining anything to Jim. 

She’s an enigma, and if there’s ever been anything that Jim couldn’t stand, it’s enigmas. He’s an explorer and a scientist, finding answers to solve enigmas is what he does. It’s his job, but it’s also an inextricable part of him. 

This might just make tonight’s dinner with Spock more interesting though. It’ll be a chance for Jim to dig around, see if he can get Spock to talk about her for a bit. Maybe find out how they met. 

Which reminds him: he’s very, very curious about the beard and leather jacket comment. Spock looks so perfectly styled every day, Jim can’t even begin to imagine what he looks like with a beard. 

He’d love to find out, though. Jim likes a clean-shaven man (as most Starfleet officers are), but that doesn’t mean he minds a good beard every now and then. 

\---

Spock still does not understand what humans find so interesting about flirting. 

He’s been at the dinner with Kirk for approximately thirty-nine minutes and for the past seven of those, he’s been considering leaving in order to call T’pring and re-engage with her, despite not having been in contact with her for years now since that argument before he left to join Starfleet. 

It had not been a pleasant time in his life, what with the continuing arguments with his father, the disagreements with T’pring, and the obvious hurt and disappointment his mother was feeling because of him. He had wished - and still often does - he could be more like Michael: disciplined, engaging, a good example. Or even more like Sybok: a full rebel, choosing to completely disengage with his entire heritage, instead of the constant limbo Spock seems to find himself in. 

Right now, he’s wishing again he just wasn’t so...himself. Maybe he’d be less awkward. Maybe it’d be easier for him to fit in. 

“Spock, are you alright?” Kirk asks, his voice soft and worried. 

“Yes, commander. I am alright. I believe it is your move.” 

“It is, but…” 

Spock doesn’t know how to reply. Humans seem to have this natural instinct to understand unspoken messages. He has often seen people talk in half-sentences, trailing off ends, or just gesturing and making specific eyebrow movements, and yet somehow they still understand one another. All Spock has really learned in this respect is to raise an eyebrow, which is probably the only facial expression any Vulcan knows how to both do and interpret. 

Which is why he does it now, too. 

Kirk sighs. “But you have barely touched your food, and you don’t seem to be entirely here tonight. Is there something wrong?” 

“I assume you mean something wrong other than the dire situation the ship is still in.” 

“Yes. Is there something wrong I don’t already know about, perhaps specifically concerning you or me? Something I should know, or maybe something you just wish to talk about?” 

“Vulcans do not ‘just talk’ about subjects without a logical reason to do so, commander.” 

“I thought I told you to call me Jim when we’re playing chess.” 

“You did. However, I feel it is inappropriate, considering you will be my commanding officer soon.” 

“I am already acting captain, and therefore already currently your commanding officer. But it’s alright, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

Spock looks closely at Kirk. He is once again sitting back, relaxed, with his hands clasped on his stomach. It seems to be something of a favourite pose for him, but mostly off-duty. There is a soft smile on his face, as if he’s genuinely enjoying these moments. Spock supposes he does. 

Kirk is looking back at him, too, which means they’re essentially staring at each other right now, each waiting for the other to move first. Exactly what that move is supposed to be, or what he wants it to be, Spock doesn’t know. He does know that, for some unknown reason, he does not feel uncomfortable under Kirk’s exploring gaze. Unlike with his own peers at school on Vulcan, or even at the Academy, who stared at him unabashedly with often a mixture of curiosity and judgement, Kirk’s gaze is entirely free of judgement. It’s a nice change, but Spock is unsure of how to deal with it. 

So instead he forces himself to focus back on the game of chess. He moves a knight, and then sits back to take a bite of the Bajoran spring roll Kirk has promised would be ‘right up Spock’s alley’. It actually is, which surprises Spock. He wasn’t aware Kirk already has such a grasp of him and what he likes. But the spring roll is crisp and filled with tender vegetables and just the right amount of spices. It is, frankly, delicious. 

Kirk, seemingly satisfied, also turns his attention back to the chess board. He hums softly while thinking, and moves a pawn to the top platform before leaning his chin on his hands. 

“Mister Spock, may I ask you something?” 

“Yes. You do not need to ask that question first.” 

“Thank you. Is it true what Georgiou said? That you had a beard?” 

“It is correct, yes. I was in a different mindset then.” 

“Are there any photos?” 

“Doubtful.” 

“Ah,” Kirk says, sitting back again. “That’s a shame. I’d love to see it.” 

Spock glances back at Kirk. “Perhaps I could ask my mother if she has any. As a human, she has an emotional attachment and may have saved something.” 

Kirk’s face immediately lights up. “Sometimes, Spock, you come across so Vulcan I almost forget you have a human mother. She lives on Vulcan, right?” 

“Correct. She lives in ShiKahr with my father.”

“Is she the one who gave you all that classic Earth literature to read?” 

“She is, yes. She is particularly fond of the story Alice in Wonderland.” 

“I imagine she can relate to it, as a human living on Vulcan. Everything must be so strange and unusual and confusing, it might as well be Wonderland.” 

“I..have never considered it like that.” 

“By the way,” Kirk says, changing the topic. “You wanted to learn about flirting, right? Something like this, learning about a person and asking about them, is part of it.” 

“Is that not a natural human curiosity you do with everyone you meet?” 

“To an extent, yes. But sometimes it can also be part of flirting. It depends on the context, I suppose,” Kirk scratches the back of his head, a sign which, if Spock remembers correctly, means he’s suddenly unsure of what he’s saying. 

“And under what context did you ask me just now?” 

Kirk laughs. It’s a soft, but honestly happy laugh that seems to light up the room as if the sun has just burst through the windows. The thought that Spock made a human laugh and therefore happy is a strange, new feeling. It strangely warms him from inside, and he suddenly finds himself wishing he could do it again, on purpose. 

“Well, I won’t deny I find you interesting, mister Spock. Although this was regular curiosity, not of the flirting kind. But this makes me wonder: have you never asked Captain Pike anything not related to work? Perhaps about his hobbies, or his background, or why he became a captain?” 

“I do not recall ever asking, no. I assume from this conversation this was wrong from me?” 

“It is generally considered polite in human culture to ask about the people you work with, yes. I’m sure people didn’t expect it from you though, since you’re from a different culture and most of us get taught about Vulcans, so it’s alright, really. But it might help you, I don’t know. Fit in more, maybe.” 

Spock stays silent for a while after that, unsure of what to say. Of course, Kirk hit the crux of the issue. He doesn’t know how to fit in, and as much as he may have denied this to himself all these years, he does desperately want to find the right people to fit in with. He just doesn’t quite know where to start. 

_ Find that person who seems farthest from you, and reach for them.  _

A thought strikes Spock. 

What if this is about Kirk? 

\---

Jim can’t help but wonder what goes on Spock’s brain right now. He seems distant tonight, more so than usual. In fact, Jim would almost go as far as to say Spock looks distracted, if that’s a word that could ever be applied to someone like Spock to begin with. 

The conversation, or at least the small amount of that has been happening, has been very interesting. Jim loves hearing about people’s backgrounds and interests, and Spock is such a unique case in so many ways, Jim would genuinely love to keep asking him questions and find out exactly what makes Spock tick. 

He knows he might never find out completely, and that just makes Jim all the more excited. 

A woman like Georgiou is interesting for a while, but she shares easily. She’s proud of her achievements, and used to a certain level of respect, and she won’t hesitate to demand that respect from people. Jim might not mind spending a night or two with her - and from what he can see, she thinks the same about him - but long-term he wants something else, something more. 

He looks at Spock, who is slowly munching away on another spring roll that must be cold by now, as he looks at the chess board, and Jim suddenly realizes he feels a warm, glowing feeling in his tummy. It’s a content feeling, a loving feeling, and he’s felt it a couple of times before when he looked at Spock. 

As he sits here, playing chess with Spock, on the ship that will be his to command, his home, for the next five years at least, he can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, Spock isn’t that person he’d like to spend it with. 

Too bad Spock doesn’t feel the same about him. 

He talks about it later with Gary, as they catch up over ale in Gary’s room. Jim has decided not to ask where Gary got all this ale from - just as he also decided to never mention the secret stacks to either Scotty or Gary. It’s for the best if they never find out about each other’s stacks of alcohol. 

Gary gives him a Look when Jim tells him about what’s been happening with Spock. 

“Jim. Jimmy. Come on, man.” 

Jim watches the liquid swish around in his glass as he rolls it around. “He’s not interested in me, Gary.” 

“Have you met him? Talked to him recently?” 

“I literally just came from dinner with him.” 

“You had  _ dinner _ with him.” 

“I’ve had dinner with you plenty of times, that doesn’t mean anything,” Jim says, rolling his eyes. 

“Do I need to remind you that we slept together for at least half a year? I mean, I know we weren’t exactly exclusive-” 

Jim laughs at this. “Remind me again of how many other people you slept with at the same time.” 

“Hey, it was just a couple of Orion girls,” Gary protests, laughing. 

“Hmm, from what I recall, it was a couple of Orion girls, yes. And those two cadet boys, a Bajoran, an Andorian, and I think I heard some rumours about just how you managed to pass that temporal mechanics exam.” 

“Listen, that teacher was really hot. It’s not my fault if I was so good she gave me bonus points.” 

“So how, exactly, does me having dinner with Spock equal him being interested in me? Because I’m fairly certain that up until very recently he hated my guts.” 

“There’s a thin line between love and hate, remember,” Gary shrugs. 

“No wonder you’re so hated.” 

“Hey!” Gary throws a random computer disk just over Jim’s head. It hits the wall, and there’s an angry shout in return from the other side of the wall. 

“I still constantly forget how thin these walls are,” Gary says, wincing. “You’d think Starfleet could invest in some proper soundproofing, but no.” 

“One of these days, I’m going to have to come in and either suss out an argument or get you to sick bay,” Jim comments, knowing his friend well enough to trust he won’t actually let it get that far. Joking’s all fine and well, and Gary’s definitely loud and often obnoxious, but he does respect most other people. 

‘Most’ being a keyword, here. 

“For real though,” Gary continues, his voice suddenly more serious. “The man digs you. Everyone knows it.” 

“Except he hated me because we were both flirting with Pike.” 

“And he doesn’t hate you anymore, considering you had dinner together. Did you have a candle lit up as well? Was it very romantic? Did you share a single spaghetti?” Gary says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“No,” Jim laughs. “How old-fashioned even are you? Besides, we played chess while we ate spring rolls.” 

Gary puts his glass down with a loud clanking sound. “Jim! Have you learned nothing from all those years with me? Did I not teach you well?” He says, putting his hand over his heart and pretending to be heartbroken. 

Jim reaches out, and puts his hand over Gary’s other hand that’s lying flat on the table. 

“Gary, my dearest friend. You taught me everything I know.” 

Gary turns his hand around to clasp Jim’s, entwining their fingers. “Evidently, I didn’t teach you enough. I promise you, Spock is into you. And for a Vulcan to show it so clearly, he must have it bad. And you know what? I obviously don’t know him very well yet, but from what I hear, you two would actually fit really well together.” 

“Oh?” Jim pulls Gary’s hand toward him and kisses it. Jim’s always been a very physically affectionate person, and he knows some of it has been mistaken for flirting before. But he can’t help it, he shows how much he loves people by always touching some part of them. A pat on the shoulder, leaning against someone, grabbing their hand when going somewhere, when needing - or giving - reassurance. He’s been told his personal love language is touch, and that he needs to be careful with it. Not everyone appreciates it, and there are plenty of cultures where it’s a downright taboo. Like on Vulcan. 

“Yeah, for starters you’re both giant nerds.” 

Jim drops Gary’s hand and lets it drop to the table. 

“Just promise me you’ll try flirting with him instead, and see what happens?” 

Jim sighs again, slumping in his chair. “I can’t, Gary. He’s going to be my first officer. I need to work so closely with him on a daily basis, I can’t let a relationship affect that.” 

“You know Captain Pike and Number One are in a relationship right.” 

Jim’s head snaps up. “They’re what?” 

Gary cocks his head in surprise. “You didn’t know?” 

“No. I thought they were just coworkers.” 

Gary shakes his head as he refills his glass and then downs the entire thing in one go. “I really didn’t teach you anything, did I. Those two have been together for years, everyone knows it.” 

“Spock doesn’t.” 

“Spock’s a Vulcan who barely understands humans to begin with. He’s excused from knowing these things.” 

Jim groans, putting his head in his hands. “What else haven’t I noticed?” 

“Hmm, let me see,” Gary starts, pretending to count on his fingers. “Spock loves you, Pike loves Number One, Pike also loved the attention he was getting from the two of you, Georgiou is into everyone but she’s too intimidating for me.” 

“Gary,” Jim says in a quiet voice. “What do I do now?” 

Gary reaches out and grabs Jim’s hand again. “Give it some time. Give Spock some time, too. Maybe get some sleep, let everything sink in. You’ve been through a lot these past few days. I think you two are perfect for each other, so this will probably work itself out eventually.” 

Jim clasps Gary’s hand with both his hands now. “Thank you, my friend.” 

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” Gary smiles at him.

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep now. Thank you, for everything.” 

“If anything else happens, you know I have a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, and plenty of alcohol to drown out whatever happened. You’re always welcome here.” 

Jim gets up to hug him, breathing in the familiar scent of his friend, reminding Jim once again of how glad he is he gets to share this experience, this job and all these adventures, together with his friend. 

And with that, he leaves, and goes back to his own quarters to get some sleep, not noticing the flower buds on the small plant he got from Sulu. 

\---

“So,” Georgiou says as she strolls into Chris’s ready room. He’s only been back on duty for half an hour, after Mark has declared him fit enough to go back to work. The ship’s status is continually improving, with more and more systems coming back online by the hour now. A cheer was heard throughout the ship when the lights finally came back on a couple of hours ago. 

“So, let’s talk about where we’re going first,” Chris continues the sentence for her. 

“No, we can talk about that later. Your ship isn’t going anywhere yet anyway.” 

Chris slowly puts away the PADDs with the latest crew reports, so he can give Georgiou - and whatever she is about to say - his full attention. 

“Then what do you want to talk about?” 

“Commanders Kirk and Spock, of course,” she says very matter-of-factly. 

“What is it about them?” 

“They’re in love.” 

“I know.” 

“Do they know?” 

“Georgiou, what’s it to you?” Chris sighs, pinching his nose. He feels a headache coming on. Maybe Mark let him go back too quickly. Or maybe it’s because of Georgiou. 

“I am bored, and think this would make a fun little project.” 

“Well, too bad. They’re my project already.” 

This obviously takes her by surprise. Chris can’t help but feel incredibly smug about that. 

“Well, let me in on your project then. Because right now, they’re just staring at each other all the time with those lovesick eyes and I can’t stand it.” 

“You know that’s not going to change when they get together, right. If anything, it’ll probably make it worse.” 

She makes gagging noises in return. “It’s revolting. So pure and good.” 

“Then why do you want to help?” 

“I told you already, I’m bored.” She shrugs, as if it explains it all. Chris supposes to her, it does. 

“Why are you really here, Georgiou?” 

“What I told you is the truth, captain.” The tone of her voice is much more serious now. “I’m here because we suspect a new war with the Klingon Empire, and Starfleet wants us to help prevent it. We were on our way to meet with L’rell to discuss options, when your ship disappeared. Next thing we hear, you’re kidnapped and your life and that of commanders Kirk and Spock are in danger. So you can imagine how worrying that is.” 

She stands up, and walks to the window, where she stands with her hands clasped behind her back. Chris is always impressed by how regal she can look even without all the outfits and people clamouring around her, but right now, with her silhouet in front of the window, calmly gazing outward, she looks like the Emperor she once was and he understands how she got so much power. 

“Besides,” she continues, interrupting his thoughts. “There are now fifty of my people on board that Klingon ship, taking care of things.” 

“Please don’t tell me what you mean by ‘taking care’. I don’t want to know.” 

She turns around, and her smile compared with her cold, hard eyes make the hairs in Chris’s neck stand up. 

“Don’t worry. We’re handling it. We’ll have dilithium crystals for you by the end of the day.” 

A shiver runs down Chris’s spine at her words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Georgiou so much. She's so fun to write!
> 
> If you enjoy my Star Trek writing, why don't you also check out my other fic, [ready to call this love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525961)? It's about the Voyager crew, and Tom Paris finding a new home. It could use a little attention!

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://throwing-roses-into-the-abyss.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Please note: I do not always adhere to official Star Trek Canon. This is for the simple reason that I am the Author of this fic and have decided it is so. Basically think of this as a ‘transformative work’ in every essence of the word. Thank you for your understanding. 
> 
> For those of you interested: I used [this map](https://i.redd.it/9ssp4vd9aujz.gif) as reference, albeit very loosely.


End file.
